Anticipation
by the author formerly known as
Summary: Charles Swan Jr moves to gloomy Forks to be with his father. There he meets the strange but alluring Edward Cullen, and finds himself drawn into a web of danger that it may be too late to get out of. pre slash, edward/male version of bella COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: This story contains a male/male romantic almost-relationship, although any sexual content is not particularly graphic. It also contains a lot of swearing and non-graphic mentions of rape, substance abuse and violence.**

NOTE: "Char" is pronounced with a soft CH, like "shards". Just clarifying because someone commented on his nickname. I do have a backstory as to why he has that nickname; maybe I'll try and stick it in the fiction; maybe not.

1.

"I hope you're sure this is the right choice," Renee fretted, fiddling with the straps on my luggage.

I had been sure it was the right choice- when it was _my _choice. The moment my mother told me she'd already been intending to send me to rainy Forks to live with my father, anyways, I became instantly less excited to go. Not that I'd been keyed up before.

"Of course, Mom," I told her. "This is what I want."

...Just like I wanted to run screaming off the edge of the Grand Canyon.

She handed my carry on bag to me with a vapid smile, saying, "Well, your father is ecstatic that you're coming to live with him. You'll like Forks." This was interesting coming from the woman who'd left her husband because she so hated the tiny community. "It's small, very closely knitted... Nice people."

I cringed, mumbling a quick goodbye when I heard my flight's boarding announced.

I heard Renee calling out a farewell and waved vaguely over my back, glancing out the windows. Goodbye Mother, Goodbye sunlight, Goodbye Pheonix, and Goodbye to what I at least used to be able to call a life.

"Hey, kiddo," Charlie said emphatically, tousling my hair.

"Hi, Dad," I sighed, piling my things into the back of the police cruiser. I had to smile at the irony. Three days ago if I had been getting into a police car, it definitely would have been with the sort of kicking and screaming I only _wished_ I could do now.

Of course, that was exactly the point.

"I hope you'll like it here," Charlie muttered beside me. "The people are all very nice."

I was sure that by very nice he meant, 'in line, law abiding citizens,' which was why my parents had decided behind my back to send me here. I wondered vaguely why Renee had even told me they'd been talking about it- after all, I came to her and stated that I was going to live there willingly. Why had she even bothered letting me know my choice didn't matter?

I sighed, glancing in my father's direction- and was surprised to see him looking at me intently through the corner of his eyes.

"What?" I asked, wary of the confused expression on his face.

Charlie cleared his throat awkwardly. "Nothing, Char-" I cringed at the nickname- which is what everyone called me. I only chose that name because it was minimally less worse than _Charles_, _Charlie_, or my terrifying middle name_, Gerald_. They just had to name me Charlie Jr., couldn't possibly have come up with something more original. I bit my lip; I'd grown up to be anything but a younger version of the all righteous police chief.

I glanced over again, and caught him still staring. He shook his head, glancing back towards the road. "I'm just surprised. You look exactly the same as you did when I last saw you."

Well what the hell did he expect? Some amazing transformation? Had he expected me to have morphed into some sort of a monster? I glanced in the side mirror, and watched as my own brow wrinkled with disbelief. I did look much the same; but that was because of Renee and Phil's all-watchful eyes over the past few weeks. If I'd moved out here a month ago, Charlie would have gotten the strange appearance he was obviously looking for.

The rain ran in rivulets down the window, and I stared at them a little absent-mindedly, more concerned with my own thoughts than anything I saw through the glass. Forks High School had a stunning population of just over three hundred students. In a school that small, what were the chances of finding a group of people I could connect with? Particularly since I would be known for being the police chief's kid; and particularly since in a place like that, everyone was probably living one stacked upon the other- there was no way something could be done without everyone knowing the next day.

I didn't realize we were in Forks until Charlie started speaking a few hours later. I was amazed that the time had passed so quickly, and in complete silence. On the other hand, neither Charlie or I had ever been very talkative. Still, I had been expecting at least a lecture.

"I got you something," he told me.

"Huh?"

"Well, I figured you probably wouldn't want to be driven to school in the cruiser."

I'd been driven lots of places in cop cars, but school wasn't one of them, and I wasn't dying to try.

"So I got you a truck."

"Really? You didn't have to do that, Dad," I answered, voice coloured with surprise.

"But I wanted to," he told me, pulling onto a side road. "Just remember... I'm trusting you to use it responsibly."

So here was the beginning of my lecture. "Right," I agreed, waiting for more, but nothing more came.

Charlie smiled, nodding happily. "It's kind of old, but it's sturdy. I got it from- do you remember Billy Black?"

"Uhm, vaguely."

"Well he can't drive it anymore, so he let me have it."

Charlie turned a bend, and the house I used to visit once a year until I was thirteen came into view. Sitting in the driveway was an old Chevy truck of faded red colour, with big, bulbous fenders that had splotches of rust across them- clearly one of those solid iron affairs which never got damaged, no matter how many years they saw. And this one had seen many. Yet... I loved it.

"Hey, thanks again! It's... amazing," I quipped, this time sounding much more enthused, and managing to severely embarrass Charlie with my explosive gratitude.

I suppose you could call it love at first sight; I was still thinking of the truck when I headed inside and tossed my brown backpack into the corner of the living room. At least I had one thing to smile about in this town. I had already predicted that this truck would be my one real soulmate here in Forks.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Charlie was already gone by the time I got up the next morning, so when I hopped into my truck, thinking dully about my unpacked clothes, I wondered how the hell I was supposed to find the school. It turned out not to be difficult at all, the school being just off the center road in town- and, er, a group of buildings?

I wondered where the metal detectors and fences were, finding that the feel of a school as an insitution had become a part of me more than I'd realized. I parked in a daze, not paying much attention to my surroundings; only enough to find the building labeled office and to head inside, barely noticing the transition between the warmth of the building at the rain of the outdoors.

The secretary had been expecting me, obviously, and chattered in an annoying voice, explaining things I didn't really care about. She handed me a tiny map, which I was grateful for, despite the size of the school, and wished me luck with a wide smile, her lipstick cracking on the left side.

It was in a sullen mood that I found myself passing the first three periods, staring at the clock and at the students, sizing them up, but almost never at the teacher or at the board.

I had English first, followed by Trigonometry and then Spanish. A girl named Jessica was in both my second and third, and talked constantly, welcoming me to the school and filling me in on gossip for the last two years it seemed- giving me the background I needed perhaps, in her mind. For the most part I listened absently, but there were a few stories that caught my attention, and as we walked from our last class of the morning to the cafeteria, I was honed completely in on her every word, gesture, and blink.

"So the Chief- your Dad, I guess..."

"Yeah, yeah," like that mattered.

"He drives out there and breaks up this party, and like, four guys got arrested for being impaired."

"Drugs?" I asked, "Or just drunk?"

"Oh, they were just drinking," Jessica explained. We pushed open the doors of the cafeteria, and I shivered uncontrollaby, feeling cold. "It's warmer inside."

"Right," I muttered, not bothering to tell her that it would probably make little difference.

Though I protested as publicly as I could, I was dragged to Jessica's table to meet all her female friends, and bravely endured the mandatory introductions. I was in the midst of talking to the girl next to me, a shy, sweet person named Angela, when I noticed them.

How I hadn't spotted the group on the other side of the cafeteria before was beyond me- a few moments ago I had been checking out Jess' friend Lauren, but she seemed dull compared to what I saw there.

I watched them with avid fascination- None of them looked anything alike, except that they were all stunning beauties. They weren't talking, or eating, and they each looked pointedly away from each other. One looked at her uneaten apple like it was the most deeply interesting thing she'd seen in a long time.

The girls were exact opposites- the one looking at her apple tiny and dark-haired, with sharp, angular features.

The one who had first caught my attention to the group was blonde and perfect. Her features as well were straight and focused, but this was the type of girl who posed in _Playboy _and made other girls throw up their 200 calorie lunches.

Of the boys, one was massive (I made a note not to cross him), the muscles rippling beneath his shirt with any slight movement. His dark, curly hair made it difficult for me to notice the bags under his eyes- the same thing stood out more prominently in the other two boys, who both had lighter hair. One was leaner though still muscular, and another perfect blond like the girl. The other was the smallest of the boys, not bulky at all. His bronze hair was unkempt.

The strange thing, I realized then, was that they did all _have_ the look of not having slept. In fact, they shared various other features, too- deathly pale skin, dark eyes, and most of all their beauty.

I was still watching when the tiny girl rose with her tray, uneaten apple, untouched drink, and loped from the room with more grace than I had seen a human achieve before.

"Who are _they_?" I asked, awe apparent in my tone. Jessica turned to follow my gaze, and as she did, the bronze-haired boy glanced up at the same time.

Briefly his eyes zeroed in on Jess, and then he turned his attention to me. Unlike the other stares I had been getting all day, this one held no interest. I felt as if I had called out his name and he was giving me a derisive look as his only answer. He turned away quicker than I could, and I pursed my lips, hating that I'd been caught staring. Jessica giggled next to me.

"That's Jasper and Rosalie Hale, and Edward and Emmett Cullen. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with the Dr. Cullen and his wife."

I quickly pinpointed the two blondes as the Hales, unsure of any other relation which might work. They were the only two which looked alike.

"The Hales are the blondes, are they? Do the Cullens have different parents?"

Jessica nodded. "The doctor's young- they're all adopted. Rosalie and Jasper are twins, Mrs. Cullen's neice and nephew. She took them in when they were eight as foster children. But none of the others are related."

"Foster kids? They look a little old, don't they?"

"They're eighteen. They all moved here about two years ago from Alaska," she answered, and quickly cutting to more interesting business added, "But they're all _dating!_ Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. Edward's the only single one, but he's too good to date apparently."

Jessica sniffed, and I bit my lip to hide my smile, wondering when _she_'_d _gotten turned down.

"Which one's Edward?"

As I asked this, one of the Cullens, the younger of the two boys, looked up at me again. His gaze seemed to hold some expectation, and he appeared frustrated.

"The one with the reddish brown hair," Jessica answered. The one staring at me. I looked away, but peeking from the corner of my eye, saw that he was still looking at me.

Eventually I said, "Well jeez, the blonde could probably be the richest stripper in the world with a little effort."

Lauren, Jessica's friend, overheard this, and asked with a smirk, "Jasper?"

"Well, I meant the chick..." I glanced back to the table, and saw that Edward was now tearing his bagel apart and saying something quietly to his brother. Then I turned my attention to the one Lauren spoke of. "But him, too, I guess. They all could be."

I wrinkled up my nose, and the girls laughed. The conversation moved seamlessly onto something else, but I kept looking in the direction of the strange family. At one point they all rose together, moving with a fluid ease- even the brawny guy- which made my stomach feel unsettled.

One of the girls turned out to have my next class, Biology II, and we walked silently for most of the trip.

"I'm a little nervous," I told her, feeling strange with the confession. "I was in advanced placement in Pheonix, but I was failing. It was probably only a matter of time before they knocked me down to regular Biology and then to grade 10."

She looked at me quizically, and I explained, "Charlie won't be happy if I fail here, too."

Angela laughed gently. "It's a smaller school, so the teacher will probably have more time to help you out if you need it."

She was right. And I probably wouldn't be so distracted in a town like Forks.

As we walked through the door, Angela took her place at her black-topped table, and I noticed there was only one empty seat left. I recognized the student I would be sharing the semester with easily by his unruly hair. I sauntered past to the front of the room, and as I did he stiffened suddenly, looking up at me with fierce, hostile eyes. Confused and a little daunted (but remembering that he wasn't so scary compared to his brother) I averted my gaze, handing my slip to the teacher, Mr. Banner. He gave me a book and didn't force me into any introductions, sending me to the seat next to Edward Cullen.

I didn't look at him as I sat, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him twist away from me as if I were some disgusting beast. I almost turned to him, wanting to demand if he had a problem, but chanted a precaution in my head against it. Charlie would surely love it if I were here for a day and already starting things.

The lecture was, sadly, on cellular anatomy, something I already knew inside and out (grade 9 science, pre-failing classes). I wished for something more interesting to grab my attention, but knew that nothing could have taken my mind off of Edward Cullen next to me. His fist remained clenched the entire hour, digging into his jeans, his leg bouncing impatiently. His muscles were taut, and I realized that he wasn't nearly as tiny as he'd looked next to the massive Emmett.

Remembering Jessica's resentment in the cafeteria, I wondered if I'd judged her too quickly. Maybe he was some sort of weirdo who thought he was too good for everyone else.

But for some reason I just couldn't believe that this was his normal behaviour- the guy was sitting so still it looked like he was hardly breathing, and the one time I glanced to the side (peering at the clock) I caught him glaring at me with such revulsion it made my blood boil in anger.

Again I had to steele myself not to say anything, and tried to focus on what Mr. Banner was saying.

When the class finally ended, the bell ringing shrilly, I jumped in shock- but he was faster. Edward Cullen had risen from his seat and stormed from the room, towering, I realized, over the rest of the students. He wasn't such a small guy when I wasn't seeing him in direct contrast with his burly brother.

For a second, I felt my muscles coil in fear- Edward Cullen was intimidating and had already shown such aversion to me.

I breathed deeply, reminding myself that his aversion had caused him to leave, not do anything else. I gathered my books quickly, telling myself not to worry about the quirks of the outcast family kids.

"Charles Swan?" a male voice asked, and I turned to find myself staring at a baby-faced, blond, typical popular boy.

"Char," I corrected him, cringing as usual at my name.

He laughed. "I'm Mike. Need help getting to your next class?"

My next class was gym, which turned out to be his as well.

As we walked, he joked, "So did you poke Edward Cullen with a pencil, or what? I've never seen him act like that."

I played stupid, saying, "Is that the boy I was sitting beside? Does he usually act differently?"

"Yeah, well, he's a weird guy but I've never seen him do that."

"Oh."

That was it then. It was just me.

Mike headed into the changing room, but I went straight to the coach's office to see about a uniform. He gave me one but told me to sit out for the day. I lounged on the bleachers, thinking for the whole hour about what I knew. Eventually I decided that it had to be something else.

Edward Cullen may be acting strange, but it certainly wasn't my fault. Perhaps he was having a bad day, I tried to convince myself as I headed out the door at the end of the day.

I found my way to the office again, and as I stepped inside I recognized the back before me. There he was, arguing with the secretary in a low, attractive voice. He was trying to change out of fourth period Biology to any other class. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling defensive. I couldn't fathom why he would be making such a big deal over me, someone he didn't know. And I couldn't help the wist of terror I felt in his presence.

The door opened once more, a girl entering to place a stack of papers in a bin before leaving, and a gust of wind blew the desk. His back stiffened, and he turned to me slowly, his coal black eyes angry and terrifying.

"Never mind," he said suddenly, turning back to the secretary Mrs. Cope. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help."

He swept from the office with more force than a tornado, and I cringed away from him just slightly.

I handed the receptionist my slip, smiling tightly.

"How did your first day go?" she asked maternally.

"Just fine," I told her, and as I headed out to my truck, I tried to convince myself that it was true. Even more, I tried to believe that tomorrow would be better.

I was relieved in part that it was... but horrified because it was worse.

I recognized some of the people, Mike, Jessica, Angela, a boy named Eric who was very chess club and very friendly. It made my day easier to know who I was talking to and to know who I could ask questions of.

It was worse for various reasons: I was exhausted, unable to sleep because of the rain pattering above my head. Mr. Varner, the Trig teacher, called on me when I had no clue what he was talking about, being totally new to a topic the rest of the class had been studying for weeks. I had to play volleyball, and though I'm not that bad at sports, my exhaustion and the general physical weakness I'd developed in the last few months made me horribly inept. But most of all, it was worse because Edward Cullen wasn't in school.

All day I anticipated his bizarre hatred of me, fretting over the reaction he had to me, and unsure as to why it bothered me so. When I finally came into the cafeteria at the end of third period, I peeked at the table with a sense of nervousness I hadn't felt in a long time. But he wasn't there. His brother and sister were, and the two breath-taking blondes, and yet Edward was nowhere to be seen.

I waited with tense muscles, but by the time the bell rang, he still hadn't showed. I walked with Mike and Angela to class, grinning beyond control when I saw that he wasn't there either. After class was halfway through, though, a nagging suspicion told me that _I_ was the reason he wasn't there.

I all but hit myself to chase away the thought. How egotistical was it to believe that I had such control over him, a person whom I didn't know and who didn't know me.

Gym was unbearable, though it's supposed to be the easiest. Talent in sports doesn't run in my family, and I have a feeling that if I were a girl I wouldn't be able to walk straight. But it's true that boys have a general better sense of balance, so I can hold my own when it's forced upon me- at least, I used to be able to.

That day, I felt like dying when I crawled into my truck cab after school, gunning the engine and waiting for the heater to kick in.

I saw the Cullens and Hales, and noted that their clothes seemed to be just a little more upscale than any others in Forks. They were getting into a shiny Volvo, probably the nicest car in the parking lot.

So they were rich, too. I wondered idly why they were such outcasts if they were so beautiful and so well-off. And then I realized that it couldn't be by fate, not with looks like that.

They_ chose_ to be excluded, to be apart from everyone else. The Cullen family didn't seem to like anyone. So maybe Edward's behaviour _was_normal, I told myself. Maybe the guy really was a total jerk, and maybe it had nothing to do with me.

Maybe... but something told me not.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

The week passed in a blurry monotony. I felt myself slipping ever further into depression, but that was no surprise.

Reneé seemed to see through the fake cheery e-mails I was sending her and called a few times to make sure Charlie was taking care of me. I think it caused an argument or two, because I heard Charlie telling the phone receiver curtly that I had been getting into more trouble in Phoenix in a single hour than I was here in a week– the 'trouble' I'd caused so far being none. Actually, though, it seemed to me that I quite quickly ended up being the one taking care of Charlie. I learned the first night I was there that he couldn't cook much besides bacon and eggs, so I assigned myself to kitchen duty. I wasn't exactly the greatest cook myself, but I seldom ate at the same time as Phil and Reneé, so I had learned to fend for myself.

My first weekend passed without incident, except that I made the mistake of screwing my courage to the sticking place, as it were, and asking Charlie about the Cullens. I think my exact words were "they seem a little strange," but I might as well have been pointing out some sort of taboo disability.

Charlie was practically blowing an artery, so I quickly backtracked, saying, "I just meant... They're all very good-looking, is all."

"You should see the doctor," he chuckled, mood suddenly relaxed, and I knew the worst was over.

I was amazed at how much time I spent thinking about Edward Cullen. It became a sort of accomplishment of my own every time I walked into the cafeteria and he wasn't there. I tried convincing myself that I should stop thinking about him so much, but when it finally started working, my mind wandered to the things I might be doing if I were back home in Phoenix, and I found my thoughts headed down trails that I knew were dangerous, and would only make me more depressed. Eventually I decided it was best just to let my little obsession flourish.

After all, as far as I could tell, Edward Cullen had run away from home or something. Those damn orphans, you know.

When I woke up on Monday, it was a major chore to drag myself out of bed. A voice in my mind told me that it just wasn't worth it anymore to move, but in the end I knew I couldn't stay there. I threw on the first shirt I came to in my drawer, glad that I was so adamant on letting myself nearly sweat to death back home. I didn't own a single t-shirt, not even stuffed away in my drawers in Phoenix. I always wore long-sleeved, so I had a wardrobe that was more or less appropriate for Forks' dismal weather.

It turned out that I was lucky, because as I walked out of my first period, with Mike Newton tagging along beside me, I realized that Forks had somehow found a way to be even colder.

"Snow!" Mike exclaimed. "Cool."

The snowflakes were like cotton balls, flurrying around my head frantically. I glanced out over the parking lot. It was as if someone had destroyed a pile of expensive pillows and spread the feathers all over the place.

Tyler, a friend of Mike's who was very low-intelligence but very friendly, sidled up beside me with an obnoxious grin.

He threw his arm around my shoulder and practically shouted into my ear, "Swan! How're you liking the snow?"

I was immobilized in horror. Someone was _touching _me. Another person's arm was on my body. My muscles stiffened, fists reflexively tightening into balls.

Tyler saw my ashen expression and laughed. "Snow's not _that bad_," he chuckled as he walked away.

I stood breathing heavily for a few moments, eyes squeezed shut, reminding myself constantly that there is nothing harmful in a friendly... shoulder... touch.

It was barely seconds before the first snowball went flying. I ducked inside the building for my next class quickly, and for the whole morning everyone chattered excitedly about the snow. I was less excited, and still shaken from my non-encounter with Tyler; I walked with an extra burst of speed in my step as I headed for the cafeteria. I got ahead of Jessica, who seemed to find it entertaining how much I hated the wet slush. I didn't bother telling her that I was a bundle of nerves because I had been forced to endure human contact.

Inside, I got in line and grabbed a soda, about to order something else when I happened to take a quick glance at the Cullens' usual table. Instantly I didn't feel like eating.

They were all there, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 of them. Emmett was shaking his wet hair at Rosalie and Alice, who leaned away with disgusted looks on their faces. They looked like a scene from a movie, all of them so perfect. Jasper was laughing along and Edward... I noticed a lot of things.

He didn't seem as pale, maybe flushed from the snow fight he'd obviously been in– his hair was saturated with wet snow. The bags under his eyes were considerably less prominent. I stared for longer than I should have, trying to pinpoint something else, another difference I sensed and yet couldn't put my finger on, but quickly forced myself to glance away. Sitting down at the table, I decided after considerable deliberation that I couldn't just skip Biology, as much as I wanted to.

Jessica cut into my thoughts, "Edward Cullen is staring at you."

I glanced up briefly, then dropped my eyes to my drink. "He's got something against me. Every time I see him he's giving me these damn evil looks. Anyway, it doesn't matter," I muttered, and just then the bell rang.

I didn't want to walk to class with Mike, because he seemed to be a popular target for flying snowballs. But as we left, I saw that rain had once more taken control of Forks' landscape, so it didn't matter.

I sat down and stared at my desk, relieved that I had gotten there before Edward. Mike took his place at his own seat, declaring loudly for everyone to hear that he was going to be selling snow straight from his freezer, for those interested. I tried to block out everything that was happening around me, and especially Mike's stupid comments. There was only one place that thought led me, but I was pulled from it quickly.

"Hello," a quiet, musical voice said nearby.

I snapped my head up and saw that, though he was still sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, this time he had his chair angled toward me. He was wet and totally disheveled, but still might have been just finished shooting an ad for hair gel. Christ, the guy was perfect– open, friendly smile, flawless clothes. The only strange thing were his guarded, careful eyes.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he told me. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Char Swan."

I was still completely focused on his eyes as he was speaking, thinking they seemed so strange... and then it hit me.

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted, and he answered very quickly, "No."

"Oh," I muttered, completely humiliated. But I knew I was right. Today his eyes were a light gold colour, and I distinctly remembered taking note of the strange black shade I saw when I first came into this classroom, the way it contrasted with his pale skin.

We fell into silence briefly, and just then Mr. Banner came in to start up the class. I was grateful, because he was probably saving me from making a major fool of myself.

He set us up doing some stupid experiment with the microscope, identifying stages of mitosis.

Edward offered me the slide silently, letting me go first. I vaguely recalled having done the same thing before back home, and once I looked through the lens, it came back more clearly.

"Prophase," I assessed quickly. I reached for the next slide, and noticed Edward quickly peeking through the lens as I did. He wrote the answer down on our paper in an elegant, neat script, a surprised expression on his face.

I quickly switched out the two slides as he did, deciding quickly on anaphase. Edward checked my answer again, examining the slide carelessly, as if it were the last thing in the world he wanted to be doing. He silently wrote down the answer once more, not really doing any harm, I suppose, but the look of bemusement on his face made me furious. After I identified the third slide, I saw that he still wore that same look of surprise. He was shocked that I was getting them right.

He thought I was stupid.

In some ways, he was right. I've done some stupid things; but still, that he assumed as much without knowing me caused my blood to boil. He held out his hand expectantly for the next slide, neither of us saying anything still.

I handed it to him, our skin touching briefly– and yanked my hand back. His was cold as if he'd been holding it under a pile of snow. But that wasn't why I pulled away; it was as if an electric current had run between us.

"Sorry," he muttered, and finished up the last of the slides himself, my willingness to participate waning quickly.

Mr. Banner came over just then. "So, Edward, didn't you think Charles should get a chance with the microscope?"

I cringed at the sound of my full name, and Edward answered, "Char. Actually, he identified three of the five."

First, I wondered how he knew to correct Mr. Banner on the Charles thing, but I didn't have a chance to say anything. The teacher turned to me and asked, "Have you done this lab before?"

"I think so," I told him, still not entirely remembering but fairly confident.

He paused. "Were you in advanced placement in Phoenix?'

"Err." What an awkward question. "Yes." My 'yes' came out sounding more like a question than an answer.

He raised an eyebrow, and I felt Edward looking at me intensely. I hated to admit this in front of him, but I didn't have much choice.

"I was failing miseraby. Didn't do the homework." I only left out some of the story, really.

Mr. Banner stared at me a moment. "Do your homework. I guess it's a good thing you two are partners."

He walked away, and I still felt Edward's gaze boring into me.

He ventured casually, "Smart enough to be in advanced placement, but not smart enough to get the homework from someone else? How'd you get into the program in the first place?"

I bit my lip and turned to him. "I'm not stupid," I retorted. "I didn't get in by cheating. I got kicked out of the class because I was failing. It was a waste of my time so I didn't bother trying."

He looked at me quizzically, seeming frustrated. "I wasn't implying that you weren't intelligent," he told me calmly. "It was a comment on your work ethic."

"Oh," I answered dumbly. God, this guy was annoying.

"It's too bad about the snow, hm?" he said, glancing around at the other groups, still working to identify the slides.

"No."

Edward studied my face. "You don't like the cold."

"Or the wet."

"This must be a hard place for you to live."

I scoffed. "You have no idea."

"Why did you move here then?" he pressed gently, and I shrugged, hating that his attention was entirely on me. It was like I couldn't escape.

"It's complicated," I mumbled, trying to evade the question.

"I think I can keep up," Edward insisted, an interested spark in his eye.

"My mother got remarried a while back. Last September." This wasn't why I moved here, but it seemed like a good place to start if I wanted to invent a story.

"And you don't like him," Edward guessed.

"No, Phil's fine. A little young maybe, but he's a nice guy." I sighed. "He travels for work... He plays ball for a living."

"Have I heard of him?" Edward asked, a smile on his face.

"Probably not. Strictly minor league, I never said he played _well_."

I wrinkled up my nose, and Edward chuckled lightly, guessing afterward, "She sent you here so she could go with him."

"No," I snapped. "I sent myself." I was unsure of why I felt so defensive when he said that, but acknowledged sadly that it was because I hated hearing it... because it was true.

I definitely hadn't sent myself, though I'd claimed to Renee I was going to.

Edward admitted, "I don't understand."

"She stayed with me, but she missed him. She was unhappy. So now she can go with him."

"But now _you're_ unhappy," Edward pointed out. "That seems unfair."

Edward shrugged as if it were a casual statement, but his eyes were so intense I found it hard to believe. It was as if my boring tale were vitally important to him.

"Hasn't anyone told you," I muttered under my breath. "Life's not fair... anyways that's all there is to it."

Edward gazed at me curiously, and still very avidly.

"You're lying," he finally said. I sat silently, unsure of how I should respond. He continued, "You put on a good show, but I think you're more miserable than you let on... and that's not the whole story. There's more."

I was quiet.

We stared at each other, and I pursed my lips.

"Yes," I agreed. "There is more."

I didn't say anything after that, and I knew that he understood he wasn't going to be hearing the rest of the story by the frustrated look on his face. I turned away sighing, hating that he'd gotten that last bit out of me, and Edward asked what was wrong.

"My mother always said she can read me like a book."

"On the contrary, I find you quite difficult to read."

After everything he had guessed, particularly seeing right through my lie, I found that impossible to believe.

"You must be a pretty good reader," I replied dryly.

"Usually" was his reply, and he flashed extraordinarily white teeth as he said so.

I bit my lip, finding that his smug manner annoyed me. "Why does it matter to you anyways," I snapped angrily, my temper getting the best of me.

He answered so quietly I almost didn't hear it. "That's a very good question."

Mr. Banner began his lecture again, and I pretended to be deeply interested in order to avoid any possibility of conversation with Edward. I tried to completely ignore his presence, but found myself looking at him out of the corners of my eyes often– several times I noticed that he was in that same, tense position from last week, fists in balls and his tendons standing out clearly. When the bell rang, he shot out of his seat more quickly than I could comprehend, and I followed, wanting nothing more than to get the day over with.

It felt like a total waste of time to stay away for the rest of the day, and sheer exhaustion took over me before four. Charlie was shaking me when I woke up, appearing concerned and asking if I was alright.

"I'm fine," I muttered. "Just tired. That's all."

Charlie looked suspicious, and I groaned.

"It happens," I said defensively, and he sighed, his eyes appearing older than the eyes of a man his age. I wondered if that would be the same if I had grown up differently.

"I know," he told me. "Just worried." He was silent and then added, "Have you gone to see a doctor? It coul-"

"Ugh, Dad. I don't need a doctor, I'm tired."

Charlie stared at me for some time before walking away, and I fell asleep once more within moments. I didn't wake up again until the next morning.

I stumbled into the driveway, blearily rubbing my eyes. I paused just as I was climbing in my truck, noticing that there were snow tires on it. For a second my chest seized, and I felt guilty for being so short with my father the night before, but it faded to be replaced with that same apathy and depression I was growing used to.

I drove slowly into the school parking lot, not only because of the bad roads but also because my eyelids were closing against my will. I got out of the truck carefully, noting keenly the silver Volvo across the lot. I hadn't thought much of Edward since the day before, but that was probably only because I'd been asleep. Now he returned to my mind vividly, and I locked eyes with him as he was getting out of his car.

A screeching sound yanked my attention away, and I turned my head to see a dark blue van swerving haphazardly across the ice- headed straight for where I stood.

Something heavy and hard hit my side, and I fell to the ground. I cracked my head on the icy pavement, and vaguely heard someone curse loudly. I saw two pale white hands shoot out and brace themselves against the side of the van- it stopped against them, and they moulded a dent neatly into its side. I felt my body being moved, but couldn't identify what was happening. Exhaustion and hitting my head made things run into one another.

My eyelids fluttered, and I saw that Edward's face hovered above mine, his expression concerned. A cacophony of voices filled the air, shouting and crying. I sat up slowly, Edward reaching down to help.

"What the hell?" I asked, my voice slurred. My eyes were drawn to the dent in the van. "What did you do?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He hoisted me to my feet, and I looked away from the van, meeting his gaze suspiciously.

"You stopped a moving vehicle with your hands," I said, my voice full of awe.

Edward looked confused, shocked and angry all at once. "You hit your head pretty hard; I think you need to get to the hospital."

I was about to press further when I heard my name being called out. I saw Charlie pushing his way through the crowd, and an ambulance worker took my arm and led me to the ambulance, though I protested firmly. At least they didn't make me wear a neck brace.

My stay in the hospital was short, thank God, and I discovered that it was Tyler, a nice enough guy who was a junior as well, that had nearly killed me. Edward showed up at one point, along with his father The Doctor. I cringed, thinking that it seemed Charlie was going to get the check up he wanted me to have anyway.

The doctor was just as ridiculously good-looking as the rest of the Cullens, more so actually. He grinned at me.

"Dr. Cullen," he introduced himself, picking up my chart and looking it over quickly. Edward was standing near enough that he could have looked over and read the chart if he wanted to, and I was suddenly grateful for all the trips to hospital I'd made anonymously- the ones that wouldn't be on the chart.

"Well, sounds like you've had quite the tumble.. How're you feeling?"

"Fine," I yawned. "...Tired."

Dr. Cullen smiled just as Charlie came in the room, looking suspiciously shame-faced. "That's no surprise. You might want to rest for a day." He pulled out his tiny doctor's flashlight and shone it in my eyes. I grimaced, putting a hand before my face.

He diverted the light, looking a little surprised. "The light bothers you? Maybe we should get you an x-ray."

"No," I told him quickly. "I'm always a little bit sensitive to light." I yawned. "And I'm always tired. It's nothing from the accident."

Dr. Cullen studied my face for a moment, and my chart again. "Are you getting much rest?" he asked.

Charlie grunted. I glanced at him warningly and muttered, "All the time. It's all I do."

The doctor reached into the drawer next to him, coming up with a needle. "A little blood test will.."

"I don't need blood tests." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Really. I don't."

Dr. Cullen looked to Charlie, who nodded after a moment's hesitation.

"Well, alright. Just head home and get some rest then. You've been lucky."

"Right," I replied, thinking that it was only because Edward had been there. I wondered then if I should confront him, but instead just followed Charlie out to the car, thinking that it wasn't worth my time. After all, why should I care if Edward Cullen was some sort of freak who could lift vans. It didn't matter. I could hardly bring myself to believe anything mattered at this point... Especially anything happening here in boring old Forks. I just wanted to go home to Pheonix, and forget everything about Forks. It's not like a place like this could ever have held any interest for me, regardless of the people there- strange or perfectly ordinary.

I realized too late that Edward Cullen had already somehow changed that.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

School was painful after that accident. The second I arrived the next day, I knew that I would barely make it through eight hours sane. Everyone bombarded me with questions about the accident. I did my best to shove attention away from me by mentioning Edward, but no one took the bait. It seemed that the people of Forks High could hardly care whether or not Edward Cullen was a hero. They refused to approach him anyways. I was asked about Tyler's condition probably, well, once for every student attending the school. By the end of third period I wanted to scream- I didn't know about Tyler's condition, but my head was killing me.

Thankfully, Angela- the quiet, brunette girl in my Biology class, seemed to understand. "Jess, Mike, hush," she told them gently at lunch. "He's obviously got a headache, leave him be."

They both stared moronically for a second. "Oh, sorry," Mike finally mumbled, and Jess smiled supportively, patting my hand. I wouldn't call either of them very intelligent, but Jessica and Mike were both okay people.

I rubbed my temples a few times, and tried to block out the continuing noise around me before I finally couldn't take the noise of the cafeteria anymore. I stood up to leave just as the bell rang.

"Saved by the bell," Mike quipped as he fell into step beside me and we headed to Biology class with Angela just behind us.

"Right," I agreed, but then thought of sitting next to Edward for 65 minutes and cringed.

Edward was already there when I got to the classroom, and I sat awkwardly and silently next to him. What on earth was I supposed to say? I ran over what had happened yesterday in my head. I remembered insisting that I thought I'd seen him move a van with his bare hands. God, I must have sounded like an idiot. Thankfully, I'd let it drop... Then again, I thought, squeezing my eyes shut and concentrating on the memory, if he _hadn't_ moved the van, what had happened? I was certain that I'd seen that dent in the van... just where Edward's hands were, _just_ in the shape of them.

We sat in silence as the lesson began; Edward clearly had no intention of striking up a conversation. I wondered why, worried that I had offended him with my suggestion. _But_, I thought again, his dad is a doctor and he obviously saw that I hit my head quite hard... If Edward knew that I might have been seeing things, why was he bothered? I glanced over, noting again Edward's angular features, his pale skin. I thought of how cold his skin had been when I touched it. Instantly I knew that I hadn't been imagining things. Edward Cullen had definitely performed an amazing feat of strength yesterday, and didn't want me to know about it... I suppressed a shudder, thinking suddenly of the graceful way I'd seen his giant brother move, or the strange appearance of the entire family. Clearly, Edward wasn't the only Cullen harboring a secret.

I sat through class nervously, wondering what I should do. Near the end of the class, Mr. Banner assigned work and the room was filled with quiet chatter as students began the assignment.

I turned to Edward, who had practically half finished his in about a minute, and ventured, "Thank you... for pushing me out of the way."

He looked up and smiled tightly. "Dropping the lifting the van story?" he joked lightly, but with a hint of tension in his voice.

I couldn't stop myself from saying, "No, actually." The rest tumbled out before I could smack myself, even as I registered the annoyance bordering on anger that flickered across his features. "I stand by what I saw, but..."

The bell rang and I gratfeully grabbed my things, rushing from the room. Gym passed horribly. I must have hit everyone in the class with a volleyball, at least once. I couldn't keep my mind off of Edward Cullen and the fact that I had just admitted to knowing- or guessing?- that he could do unnatural things. As I wandered to my truck at the end of the day, I wondered if I was even being realistic. I mean, how ridiculous was it to think that he could do something like that? What was I suggesting? That the Cullens were aliens, or mutants? I cursed my own stupidity as I pulled open the door, turning to toss my things in- and caught the Hales staring at me across the parking lot. I noticed how dark their gazes were, and hurried to start my truck. Maybe there _was_ something strange about that family.

If there was, I thought, the best course of action was to stay as far away from the Cullens as possible.

For the next six weeks, I avoided Edward Cullen like the plague. I didn't speak to him or acknowledge him in Biology, and he seemed quite content with that arrangement. I avoided going anywhere near his family members at all costs, averting my gaze when I happened to glance at them. Once Alice Cullen flashed me a tiny, reassuring smile, which mostly left me confused, but it was clear that I wasn't getting the same friendliness from the Hale twins, who were both glaring at me everytime I noticed them. Whatever was going on with the Cullen family, I did my best to make it clear that I didn't care what it was and meant in no way to bother them.

It worked well, for six weeks. Of course, with every day that passed I felt more and more sorry for myself. I hated Forks; the Cullens made it even worse than the nightmare I thought it would be. I missed Phoenix, I missed my friends, I missed... So many things.

I felt awful, and I was literally ill by the time six weeks was up. I took my usual seat next to Edward in Biology, sighing and squeezing my eyes shut. I hated pitying myself, but couldn't fight back a moan.

"Are you okay?" a rich voice prompted. "You smell ill."

I blinked, staring at Edward Cullen in shock.

He paused before saying, "I apologize, I meant _sound_. You sound ill."

Looking humiliated, Edward smiled tersely.

"I _smell_ ill?" I repeated, still not able to get over it. How could he mix up smell and sound?

"Yeah. No. I mean- that's what I said. Not what I meant." Edward looked totally flustered. "You smell wonderful." He paused. "I mean- not like. I don't mean that in a weird way... Just trying to make up for saying you smell ill."

I thought of watching the Cullens drift gracefully around the school.. and then contrasted it to Edward now. I felt the first smile of the day cross my face.

"I get it."

"Good." Edward rubbed his forehead.

An awkward silence settled between us and then I laughed.

"That made my day," I told him.

He paused and then confessed, "That was the most humiliating moment of my life. I have never said something so embarrassing to another person... So, the dance is coming up. I suppose being the new toy around here the girls must be desperate for you to go with them."

I smiled at his quick change of subject but then thought of his comment.

"Well, a few have asked." I remembered those moments with horror. I hated rejecting any girl- especially the good looking ones- but... "I just... don't do school dances."

"You don't like dancing?"

"I have nothing against dancing. I like dancing..." If you consider bumping to a deafening bass line dancing. "Just not at school dances... I suppose that's the only kind of dances there are around here, huh?"

Edward chuckled, "There are no raves, if that's your scene. We're definitely not a city."

"I thought you said I was hard to read."

"You are. It was just a good guess."

I wondered how his guess was so accurate after only one, and remembered again that dent in the side of the van... The teacher strode in through the front door just as I was about to reply, and in that instant, Edward Cullen turned away. Our conversation was over.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

At home the night after I talked to Edward, I tried mostly in vain to recreate a recipe my friend Ben had taught me, and felt my heart constrict painfully when I messed up part of it– it was salvageable, of course, and I hardly cared if the food I cooked wasn't perfect anyways. But it struck me suddenly that I couldn't just ask Ben to help out, and I remembered with fondness the way he was always so exasperated with me and the other two in our tight group of pals when he was trying to cook.

"_You three are hopeless," _he was always saying, _"Get out of my kitchen, you're no help here."_

I smiled at the memory. Most of the time, we weren't even at Ben's house, and it wasn't his kitchen. But we always obeyed, even though he was the smallest, and we could have knocked him over with the lightest of shoves.

As I thought that, Charlie came in. He greeted me casually, before sighing and clearly preparing himself to bring up something he knew I wouldn't want to hear.

"You still haven't unpacked that bag," he reminded me, referring to the brown bag I'd dumped on the floor at the back of the living room on my very first night here.

"Oh, yeah. Um..." That bag was full of things I honestly didn't want to unpack. Things that tied me far too tightly to home, and that reminded me of my friends and the life I was missing. I caught Charlie's eye and felt my brow furrow at his still guarded expression. "Was there something else?"

Charlie pursed his lips. "This dance coming up..."

"Oh, I'm not going to that, Dad, don't worry. I– I don't dance."

I smiled tightly and returned to cooking.

Charlie expelled a breath of relief. "It's not that I want to start forbid you from going anywhere, it's just..."

"I understand, Dad, it's fine." It was silent, and I wanted to say something more. I opened my mouth to apologize but found that I couldn't. What would I apologize for? Growing up to be a reckless out of control teen? I shut my mouth again and hoped he would get it without me saying anything.

Besides, it's hard to apologize for something you aren't really sorry for.

Charlie disappeared into the living room and came back in a moment later with my bag. He set it down on the table, raising an eyebrow, just as I declared the food ready. We ate quietly, and he was always casting expectant glances at my pack, sitting between us. He left without saying anything else, but I found myself still seated for a while, staring at it.

Finally, with a sigh, I reached forward and delved into one of the pockets. I pulled out my cell phone, unused for almost two months. I smiled ruefully. I'd never been one of those people who were obsessed with their phone, but I certainly used it an average amount before I lived in Forks.

I flicked it on, and wasn't surprised that after a moment it started vibrating to alert me of unread messages. Most of them were old, from the day I'd gotten on the plane. The phone had been off this whole time and hadn't received any of the newer messages. I shoved it in my pocket, but not after staring blankly for a moment at the ID on all the messages and then deleting them unread.

I went to bed grumpy that night, tossing the bag still unpacked into a corner, and collapsing onto the bed tossing and turning fitfully.

My dream was vivid, dark tree branches hanging around my head and a voice I recognized with terror behind crooning quietly behind me. I raced forward and smacked right into someone's chest. I looked up into Edward Cullen's impassive pale face. He stared at me before glancing up into the dark forest behind us where someone approached. The voice drew nearer, and Edward's lip curled up in a snarl, revealing white, straight teeth–

I woke in a sweat, and stared at the clock. It was just past three in the morning, and my phone was vibrating idly on the bedside table. I mulled curiously over the dream. Why had Edward been in it? I'd had similar dreams on the same motif for months, but never in a forest. And usually I didn't get saved in the end. I wrote it off, deciding that it was sensible enough– after all, if my subconscious was trying to convince me Edward Cullen could move vans with his bare hands, why couldn't he rescue me from the one I was being chased by?

_Because he's already caught you, _my mind provided viciously

The phone vibrated again noisily, and I gritted my teeth.

I picked it up and stared at the display.

_1 new message._ I groaned. Who the hell would text me at three in the morning? And why now, after I'd been gone for six weeks and obviously had no intent to return any messages?

I flipped the phone open, my breath hitching as I stared at the screen.

_1 new message, from: _Glen. _Read? Dismiss?_

I sat up slowly, staring at the phone. I'd avidly avoided even thinking my best friend's name ever since I'd been in Forks, almost cutting him out of the few memories I had thought of, or at least doing my best not to focus on his role in them.

With some hesitation, I opened the message. _Char, you know I'm just gonna keep messaging you. What's up? Why are you ignoring me? I'd call but you know Josh'd strangle me over the long distance._

I pursed my lips grimly, knowing he meant that last bit as a joke but wondering at the truth in it anyways.

I replied quickly, trying to keep it as nondescript and perfunctory as possible. _Glen, sorry I haven't replied. Been busy. Forks sucks._ _The people are weird. Phone was off anyways._

I sent the message, suddenly aching to tell him about Edward Cullen and the accident and the nightmares I was having. But I knew I couldn't tell Glen about any of that, especially the nightmares. He'd just stress himself out worrying over me and I'm sure that was the last thing he needed.

Glen replied instantly, and I knew that it was because he was surprised and relieved that I'd replied. I noticed that he kept his message vague too, probably hoping I'd spill on my own. Glen had a funny way of knowing that I was usually lying when I insisted I was ignoring him for pretty much any reason I might come up with.

_Must be boring, huh? What are there, 37 people living in Forks?_

My reply was short, and I tried to keep it casual enough that Glen wouldn't pick up on my desperation: _Not enough people to throw a party. Speaking of which, been to any good ones lately?_

I paused before I sent it, wondering if hearing about it would help to quench my thirst, or just stress me out over what I was missing.

Glen's reply was less prompt than it had been. I waited curiously before receiving: _Don't party much now that you're gone. No need for us to._

I wondered about that, but didn't write anything in return. Instead I lie back down in bed and let myself drift back into sleep, hoping that I wouldn't have another nightmare. Or at least that Edward Cullen would be there to save me. I scoffed just as I was losing consciousness. Too bad he couldn't have been there in real life.

I noticed the next morning that Charlie was still sitting in the kitchen when I got down there. He usually left before I got up, but lately he'd been hovering a bit more. I knew he was growing worried, and I couldn't honestly blame him. I caught a glance of myself in the mirror in the entryway. Usually I was tan from the Phoenix sun, but now I was pale and my eyes had bags beneath them.

No, I thought, I wasn't pale. I was just as tan as before, but I was– ashen-faced. All the time. With a vicious grin, I thought I was beginning to look a bit like the Cullens. Except not nearly as good-looking. When I arrived at school, I was immediately cornered by Lauren.

"So, goin' to the dance? I heard you've rejected quite a few ladies' requests."

"Oh, no, I'm uhh... Not going at all."

Lauren smirked and batted her eyelashes. "Can't find someone you're interested in going with?"

"No, it's not that." Really, there were lots of girl in Forks I'd go to a dance with– Lauren among them, I thought wryly, taking in her blonde hair and perfect curves. "I'm going to be out of town that weekend," I lied smoothly.

'_Actually, my father is forbidding me from leaving the house except to go to school' _wasn't exactly something I wanted to admit.

"Oh." She raised one perfect eyebrow. "Where to?"

"Seattle," I told her quickly, trying desperately to think of a valid reason to be there. Thankfully the bell rang and we headed to separate classes. But the horror wasn't over. Serena, a girl in my trigonometry class, who was very nice but a little annoying, cornered me with the same banter.

I repeated my lie, this time adding, "I have to get some stuff sorted out with my passport," which was actually partially true, but I didn't intend to do any of that 'stuff' soon, and it could be done by sending a simple letter anyway. Still, she wouldn't need to know that.

Thankfully I was free of anymore requests for the rest of the day, probably because Lauren and Serena had both blabbed about my turning them down– and all the girls who'd previously asked me. Jesus, I hoped some stupid rumour that I was gay didn't start going around.

Biology was tense and awkward. Mr. Banner set us on a partnered assignment for the duration of the period, and I noticed that Edward was being quiet again. He kept shooting very strange glances my way and only spoke when necessary. When there were only a few minutes left of class I gathered my courage and said something.

"Are you... I mean... Upset or something? Please tell me you're not still embarrassed over saying I smell sick."

Edward let out a breath that was halfway a chuckle. It seemed forced, but his eyes had the same intensity they had when he was grilling me about my homelife in Phoenix.

"A little," he answered, and I knew, somehow, that he was lying, though he didn't flinch, stiffen, or avert his eyes as he spoke to me– or give off any other signal people usually gave. I wondered what was going on in his head, and wished I could read minds.

Then the bell rang, and with a tight grin, Edward disappeared.

I didn't see Edward again until the next morning. It wasn't raining, and I was standing outside my truck, staring pensively at the phone, and wanting to reply to Glen's last message but wondering how. It was such a strange statement. We'd always partied– the group of us, except Ben, really, but even if he never went it didn't make sense for Glen and Matt not to. Then again, maybe it did make sense.

I realized suddenly that there was only ever two of us at a single party. Glen would come with me, or Matt, or sometimes Ben, if Glen or Matt weren't going. But they never went with each other. And quite frankly, I didn't know why they came with me. We didn't hang out at parties, I thought. We usually split ways fairly fast...

"Good morning."

I jumped, dropping my phone. Edward bent down in front of me, catching it before it hit the ground with amazing agility.

"Where the hell'd you come from?" I demanded, but my voice was breathless and shocked, so the effect wasn't the desired one. "Could you... not... appear out of thin air like that, please?"

Edward chuckled, smoothly handing me my phone. "It's not my fault you're incredibly unobservant, Char," he commented with a strange air of good humour. I wondered what had happened to the anti social Edward I was used to.

I stared at him for a moment, confused but keeping my face as neutral as I could, remembering his odd habit of 'reading me' even more so than others did.

"Is there something you want, Cullen?" I finally asked, praying that my voice was as toneless as I imagined it to be.

He looked a bit shocked, but then his good mood seemed to resurface. "I wanted to ask you something, but you seem a little hostile, so maybe I won't."

I found myself working not to punch him. Funny how a moment before I'd wanted him to go away and now I wanted so desperately to know what it was he had to ask. And annoying how he seemed to know that I'd want to hear his question.

"I find you irritating," I told him truthfully.

He grinned spontaneously at that, and then put a placid mask of indifference across his features.

I added in a growl, "Especially since you seem to find annoying me entertaining."

Edward smiled openly. "It's not that I find irritating you entertaining. It's that I find–" He paused, seeming confused about what he was saying. "I'm not used to irritating people outside my family. I'm also usually quite adept at knowing what will bother someone and what won't– believe it or not, I often try to be as bearable as possible. But I can't tell whether what I say at anytime will annoy you. It's fun that you react... differently from other people."

I blinked in confusion, wondering why he was telling me this and then wondering if I really cared. I shut my eyes and sighed, blocking out his face.

"What do you want Edward?"

"Actually, I wanted to inquire about your mother's husband..."

I opened my eyes and stared incredulously at him. "What?"

"You said he played minor league, and his name was Phil. I was sitting home the other day, and– my brother makes a point of collecting things regarding obscure celebrities you see. Minor league baseball cards, CDs of bands long ago forgotten by even the most devout fans... Anyways, Phil Dwyer, am I right? He fits what information I had from you, and he lives in the same area..."

I found myself struggling to understand how Edward Cullen could possibly function everyday in such a weird family. "Your brother... collects things... that are obscure?"

"Right. Emmett loves mediocrity." Edward's smile was wry. "He thrives on it. He had a Phil Dwyer baseball card..."

I scoffed. "I refuse to believe the guy dating Rosalie thrives on things that are merely passable."

Edward laughed, a loud, hearty sound. "Sometimes I think that's why. He likes mediocrity because he knows it has nothing on him." He turned an intense gaze on me once more. "But you've sidetracked me."

"Oh, right. Yeah, it's him. But why do you..." My question trailed off as I saw the look of triumph that lit up Edward's face. I thought of his intelligence, his insistence that he found me entertaining because he couldn't fathom my reactions. I groaned loudly, understanding at once. "Christ, Cullen, please don't turn me into a puzzle. I'm not here for you to solve."

I felt my face heat up and grabbed my bag, walking away from Edward as fast as I could. I didn't want him devoted to uncovering my past, or anything about me, but some people can be ruthless when they think they're unraveling a mystery.

He followed, seeming cheery.

"I'll try not to. In fact, it would be quite prudent for you to avoid me."

I turned around at that, slowly, wondering how to interpret it. The look on his face told me it wasn't a threat, but I couldn't wrap my mind around any other reason for him to say that.

"I'll remember," I told him, and started walking away, before it occurred to me that I myself was one of those people who got a little too deep when presented with an interesting puzzle. And Edward Cullen was certainly a mystery.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

Thursday night the phone rang obnoxiously while I was trying to sleep, admittedly around 6 o'clock, but I was still hateful of the interruption.

The caller ID indicated it was a blocked number. I picked it up hesitantly, terrified that someone from Phoenix might have gotten my number. But it was only Jess.

"Hey, Char. I hear you aren't going to the dance?"

"Oh. Hi Jess. No– I don't do dances, to be totally honest."

"Great!" I blinked, surprised at her reaction, and noted that Charlie was eyeing me speculatively. "I mean, it'll suck that you aren't there, but look. Mike asked me to go with him, and I need to pick out a dress. And I was just gonna bring Lauren and Angela with me, but I was wondering if you would come too? I mean I'm not gonna make you sit in a women's clothing store all day, you could do whatever while you were there, but I wouldn't mind having a guy's opinion. Sometimes girls don't really help. Especially, I mean-" She lowered her voice. "Lauren sometimes concentrates way too much on making sure she looks better than everyone else."

I was silent. "Are you trying to get me to go shopping with you? You know I'm a dude, right?"

"That's the point!" Jessica sounded cheery. "We'd probably just go to Port Angeles. And we'd get food. And the meal's on me if you agree to come. I also figured, you know, it'd be a chance for you to get introduced to the areas nearby, you know?"

Hell, if it was a chance to leave Charlie's house, even for a few hours...

"Umm. One sec." I moved the receiver away from my mouth, but Charlie beat me to the cut.

"The Stanley girl?" he asked. I nodded, and Charlie's response was a shrug. "Go ahead."

I was amazed that he agreed to let me off the leash, and then remembered the regret in his voice when he'd said he didn't want to start forbidding me to do things. I realized that letting me go somewhere was probably harder than Charlie let on.

"Thanks, Dad... Sure thing, Jess, you're on."

"Cool! Um... we're going Friday, after school? And tomorrow I think a bunch of us are headed out to La Push... Just to chill for a bit at the beach, totally casual."

Jess and I confirmed plans quickly and hung up. It seemed a bit surreal to be asked to go shopping, but I got the impression from Jessica's tone of voice that she just wanted to include me as the new kid. I felt vaguely annoyed, to be honest, but it was a sweet gesture.

Time passed as it always did– stretched out exponentially longer than it should be. In my nightmares I couldn't tell if I was supposed to be terrified of Edward Cullen or grateful to him as a saviour. As usual I woke up bitter that no one had shown up to help me during my waking hours.

God, life sucked. Glen had obviously alerted Ben and Matt to my sudden willingness to respond to texts and I was being bombarded left and right with questions from them. Matt, in his predictability, asked about hot chicks in Forks, which wasn't too hard to answer. Glen probed subtly. Ben's messages usually went something like, 'Are you okay? Do you need to talk about it? It's been six months. Open up, we're your friends. How's Forks? Are you happy? How's your health?'

I love my friends, but I hated Ben for a few hours that night.

School was boring. As usual. For the first fifteen minutes anyway. Before first period was halfway through I found myself sitting awkwardly in the guidance councillor's office, hating life and wondering why God would do this to me.

"So Char," Mrs. Saika began, sitting across from me, "Some of your teachers are a little concerned with your progress."

Oh, no, not this again. As if I didn't hear this enough in Phoenix.

"Your teachers have all expressed confidence that it isn't a lack of intelligence, but a shocking apathy toward your work and lessons."

She stared at me.

"Um..."

Mrs. Saika sighed deeply. "Listen, your marks are... hurting, to say the least. And your history at Phoenix wasn't much better."

She was staring intently at a sheet on the desk for the following minutes of silence. I leaned forward. My transcripts from my old school. We sat awkwardly for a long time while I stared at my lap and wondered what to say. When I glanced back up her eyes were boring directly into mine.

"What?" I asked.

"Do you think you'll graduate on time if you continue this way, Char?"

Her voice was gentle, but I flinched. I didn't often think about whether I would graduate or not, let alone on time.

"I think, Char, that you should consider changing your courses."

"Isn't it a little late in the semester for that?" I grumbled.

"Well, yes, but I've spoken with your teachers and with the principal... We agree that switching into non-academic courses might be your best bet for getting your average up. If you feel up to taking academic courses again next year, try then. But for now, we all really feel this is your best bet."

I sighed. It wasn't like I really cared what classes I was sitting through. I hated them all.

For the next half hour we rearranged my schedule. I surprised both myself and Mrs. Saika by refusing vehemently to being transferred out of Biology.

When she stared at me wide-eyed I continued much more meekly, "I mean I'm doing fine in that class. I can just finish it this semester rather than having to retake it."

The rearrangement was a bit tricky, which seemed unfortunate at first, but which I was grateful for later. There was no way we could reasonably switch me out Trigonometry and Spanish without rearranging my English, and unfortunately, my gym slot was in the way... But when I left the office I was smiling ear to ear because the principal had just agreed to let me graduate without the necessary gym requirements. No more painful volleyball games and stupid 12 minutes worth of running for me.

I still had the same English teacher, only now it had been moved to second period. When I entered the room he looked like he was expecting me.

"Jeanette e-mailed me," he said. "We're doing all the same things as we are in the other class, so no catching up to worry about. There's an empty seat next to Mr. Cullen in the back."

I turned slowly. Sure enough, Edward was sitting in the back of the room staring at me intently with his golden eyes. It occurred to me that they were almost yellow. I glanced at the ground as I walked, but could feel his gaze following me to my seat. Well, maybe he wouldn't talk to me.

"Isn't it a little late in the semester to be switching courses?"

"So much for you staying blessedly quiet," I murmured. "And for avoiding me."

"You're the one who's supposed to be avoiding me," Edward reminded me, but his smile suggested he got some weird sense of entertainment from having me next to him. "Why did you switch courses?"

"Because otherwise I won't graduate."

Well, no mincing words there. I stared away from Edward, focusing on the front of the room.

"I struggle to understand why someone as intelligent as you does so poorly."

"You struggle to understand a lot," I commented dryly.

"Only when it comes to you." Edward's words were quiet and held an intensity that made me glance over at him. But his gaze was equally as intense and I was forced to look away. The class started and I did my best to ignore Edward's existence.

I had my books in my arms and my seat shoved back before the class was over. As I rushed from the room I thought that the whole scene must have been vaguely reminiscent of that first day, when Edward seemed to want nothing more than to get as far away from me as possible. For some reason it struck me that avoiding him was the only option. _So why did you argue to remain in Biology with him? _my mind provided.

Because then I hadn't noticed that his eyes were the same colour as a bloody cat or something.

My next course was media studies, in the very corner of the school. The room was practically hidden and I had never been there before, so of course I ended up late. I was somewhat horrified that I had gotten lost in a school so small, but when I got there and saw the curtains across the door windows, I wondered if the teacher hadn't chosen an awkwardly placed, nearly hidden class for a reason.

I knocked quietly a few times.

The door opened slowly and a man I had never seen before peered out at me. His hair was white and his eyes were dark. The room was black behind him.

"Mr. Swan, you're late. And that knock was pathetic. Three strong knocks on any door anywhere in the world will do wonders."

I stared blankly for a minute and he grinned at me.

"Come on in, Swan. You'll have to get the notes from someone, we don't cover anything unimportant in this class." I walked in behind him into the darkened classroom. All the windows were covered in curtains. The desks were set up like theater seats, pointed toward a television screen in the front of the room. "We have assigned seats," he told me. "I usually arrange by alphabet but we were full up earlier. Take the empty one next to Mr. Hale."

Christ was this some kind of joke?

I had to stumble awkwardly between two very tightly packed rows of desks before I got to my seat, the way you need to maneuver back to your seat after going to the bathroom at the movies. Most students were simply sitting around talking; the teacher had gone to tinker at the front of the room, so it looked like class wouldn't be formally starting for a few minutes.

Sitting next to Jasper Hale in the dark I felt every one of my muscles tense and scream for me to run away. His sister sat on his other side. Sitting next to each other like that they appeared so creepy with their gold... yellow... eyes set against their pale skin, especially in this darkly lit room. But I had never been this close to either of the Hales before; I found myself staring with a furrowed brow at the boy next to me.

I was focused so intently on the set of his features that I didn't even notice he was returning my gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" he finally asked.

I flinched backward. "Oh, sorry, your face is a bit familiar. I was just trying to figure out... Uh. Where from."

Both Hales were staring at me with one perfectly arched eyebrow. It was massively awkward so I eventually just turned away and tried not to hyperventilate at the feeling that they both wanted nothing more than to rip my throat out.

These people were weird. Finally the teacher started, reiterating to the class (mostly for me, I think) that the idea was to take notes on all aspects of the film: character, compelling imagery blah blah blah.

The idea was to watch a film until the scene that could be solidly identified as the 'turning point.' I quickly surmised that there would be much napping in this class. We took notes in silence. I was surprised that no one was trying to talk under the sound of the television.

I had never seen this film before, but there were some men wandering about in the woods. Soon enough we came to the turning point: some hicks show up and soon two of them have been captured. Okay, no big deal. Except that it became apparent seconds later that the scene was to be of a sexual nature. I cringed into my seat, folding my arms across my stomach. I felt my chest constrict in complete terror and squeezed my eyes shut– half to stop myself from crying and half to block out the image on the screen. I wanted to cover my ears but didn't want to be seen actually doing it.

I was very close to having a breakdown when I felt a sudden wave of calm wash over me. Apparently this is the part when I go completely numb and my emotions stop functioning or something. That's okay, it was better than freaking out. I sat completely docile through the rest of the scene, surprisingly able to stare ahead of me and not even register the images on the screen.

Finally the film was shut off and the teacher began lecturing on something I didn't listen to. I still felt very relaxed given I had come so close to a complete fit. I left the room in a daze and wandered in the general direction of the cafeteria. I didn't end up there since after getting a few feet away from the classroom my chest constricted once more and I felt my emotions come over me again twice as strong. I'd like to say that I toughed it out and went to class, but I spent an hour curled up in my truck and finally drove home before crawling into bed and wrapping myself completely in the blankets.

I'm not sure how long I laid there and let myself rip my throat out by sobbing before picking up my phone and fumbling with the buttons. It rang for what felt like an eternity before I hung up and dived back into bed.

I didn't know what was worse: lying there thinking about it or falling asleep and having nightmares about it.

Either way I was jolted from my silent misery later by the ringing of the phone. I glanced at the caller ID. _J Whitlock._

The familiar name made me smile through everything else going on. I answered without hesitating.


	7. Chapter 7

_7._

"Hey Glen," I murmured, my voice hoarse.

"What's up? I saw your number on the caller ID."

I felt slightly better just hearing my best friend's voice.

"Josh won't mind the long distance?"

"Josh can go fuck himself, how are you?"

I laughed, but it sounded a bit strangled. "I'm fine," I told him, although of course I had called him because I wasn't. I breathed in deeply and sighed, picking at the cover of my duvet with one hand. "I rearranged all my courses today because the people here say I won't graduate otherwise."

"Oh. So..."

I could tell Glen was trying to figure out a gentle way of broaching the subject we both knew was at hand.

"Um. School's... good, then?"

This time my laugh sounded a little more free. "It's fine, Glen, except I sit next to this incredibly annoying guy except in like one class, and in that class I sit next to his creepy foster brother who's like some sort of statue or some shit, and then we watch disgusting movies that make me want to die."

I paused after all that came out in a rush. I hoped it had sounded more casual than it felt to say; Glen has a weird knack for picking out exactly the one thing you would least want him to pick out.

"You watch movies? Like what? Sounds like a perfect class for sleeping through."

"I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention." I knew Glen would spot a lie so I tried to sort of tell the truth. "Some shit called Redemption or something about a bunch of guys in the woods."

Glen was quiet for a moment."Deliverance?"

"Uhm. Sure." I hadn't been planning on him recognizing the film from my horrible description.

"Oh, Char." I could already feel Glen preparing himself for some sort of intense speech when the doorbell rang.

"Uh, hold on Glen, someone's at the door."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and went to answer the door. Jessica was standing there.

"Uh, hi?"

"Hey, Char! We're heading out to La Push. You left school early so we weren't sure if you were sick, or what. But... if you wanna come...?"

I looked over her shoulder and saw what must have been her car, where Angela and Tyler were waiting. Glen would probably want me to sit and talk about my feelings or some shit for the next hour. But... he always said that I shouldn't sit around bemoaning life.

"Sure, Jess. Just hold on a minute, I've got someone on the line."

"Alright, we'll wait."

I grabbed the phone while she headed back to her car, shouting over her shoulder, "Bring a jacket, might get cold!"

"It's already cold... Hey Glen, I've gotta go."

"What? No, wait a second, Char–"

"Going to the beach with some folks from school. I'll call you back."

"Char."

"I promise."

"I.. Ok. Have fun. Call me back. It was good talking to you... For ten seconds."

"Bye Glen," I told him, rolling my eyes as I hung up.

The beach at LaPush was a bit dreary, but it was nice to be out of my house and socializing. The alternative was of course, staying at home and listening to Glen spew philosophical platitudes. Which I had already been doing for 6 months. No.. 7 now. Had seven months really passed? I stared into the flames of the bonfire and listened vaguely to the conversation around me.

My mind began to wander in directions I was sure were not a good idea, so I stood and decided to go on a walk to clear my head. Just as I did I was approached by a boy who introduced himself as Jacob Black.

"Oh, right. We used to fish," I remembered.

Jacob fell easily into step with me as I wandered down the beach. He told me about his life now and what his family was up to. He looked a couple of years younger than me, but I found him easy to get along with. He reminded me a bit of Matt. Maybe that was why I gave him an answer that was surprisingly honest when he asked about school.

"Okay, I've had to switch up all my classes or else I'm probably not going to graduate. Which wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't stuck next to Edward Cullen and his weird family in almost all my classes."

Jacob paused. He stared at me for a minute and then said, "I wonder about the Cullens. Are they really that weird?"

"_Um._ It's kind of hard to say... They do seem a bit strange. But Edward is..." Compelling. Fascinating. "Not so bad to talk to, just gives off a weird vibe. He's the only one I really know, so..."

"Right," Jacob said quickly. Then, with the air of someone confiding a great secret, he told me, "The Cullens aren't supposed to come here."

"What? Why not?"

Jacob paused. He stared at me as if trying to gauge something "Don't laugh."

"O...k."

"All right, let's take a seat." He gestured to some logs and we sat down. I raised an eyebrow, inviting him to start.

"You into scary stories?" Jake asked with a seriously shit-eating grin.

"Sure."

"Well, do you know any of the old Quileute legends? Where we come from?" I shook my head. "Well, there are lots of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Flood — supposedly, the ancient Quileutes tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest trees on the mountain to survive like Noah and the ark." Jacob shrugged, and I got the impression he didn't hold these stories with much regard. "Another legend claims that we descended from wolves — and that the wolves are our brothers still. It's against tribal law to kill them... and then there are the stories about the 'Cold Ones.'"

Jake waggled his eyebrows and I couldn't help but to chuckle. "The Cold Ones?" I asked, a bit more sarcastically than was necessary maybe. Jake laughed at the expression on my face.

"There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and some much more

recent. According to legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the

one who made the treaty that kept them off our land." He rolled his eyes. "He was a tribal leader, like my father. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf—well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves."

"Werewolves have natural enemies?"

"Only one." I stared at Jake for a moment before bursting into laughter. I had spent enough time listening to Glen rhapsodize on folklore to know what he was talking about now.

"What, like vampires?"

Jake grinned. "Right. But this pack that came to our territory during my great-grandfather's time was different. They didn't hunt the way others of their kind did — they weren't supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-grandfather made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, we wouldn't expose them to the pale-faces." He grinned obnoxiously and winked.

I chuckled and murmured, "That makes very little sense to me."

"Supposedly they didn't hunt humans," Jake elaborated. "They claimed to prey on animals... But still, you never know when they might get too hungry to resist." Again, Jake laughed at the look on my face, although this time I doubted it was because of my cynical composure. The more he spoke, the more I thought of Edward Cullen's creepy eyes and the way it had felt sitting next to Jasper Hale in the dark.

I swallowed. "So... how does this fit in with the Cullens? Are they like the cold ones your great grandfather met?"

"No." Jake paused dramatically and wiggled his eyebrows once more. "They are the _same_ ones. There are more of them now, a new female and a new male, but the rest are the same. In my great-grandfather's time they already knew of the leader, Carlisle. He'd been here and gone before_your _people had even arrived."

To stop myself from freaking out I joked, "What, so Dr. Cullen's supposed to be as old as the American flag? As old as the first settlers? He barely looks a day over 30, I'd say."

Jake laughed. "It's pretty crazy stuff. We aren't really supposed to talk about. Actually I just violated that whole treaty they arranged way back when."

I joined him in his laughter as we stood and started walking back down the beach. "I'll take it to the grave, man."

Jake grinned but then became a bit more sober. "Seriously, though, don't say anything to Charlie. He was pretty mad at my dad when he heard that some of us weren't going to the hospital since Dr. Cullen started working there."

"I won't," I assured Jake. "Charlie is a bit crazy in his support for Dr. Cullen. I guess I can't blame him since he seems like a nice guy and a great doctor. But he nearly bit my head off for calling the family weird."

Jake shrugged. "Parents. What can you do?"

"Hey, Char!" I glanced up the beach to where Jess and Tyler stood waving. "We're heading out, come on!"

"Good seeing you again, Jake," I said as I headed off with the others. Jacob acknowledged me with a smile and nod and returned to the bonfire. The ride home was chatty, but I stared out the window in silence, thinking of the Quileute legends, the man who'd been part of them since before my ancestors would have arrived here, and his family who had apparently been around to know Jacob's great-great-grandfather. Edward Cullen was in my grade 11 classes. Was I honestly going to believe that he could be that old?

The fact that I couldn't readily answer this question was answer enough.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

"Someone's been calling you," Charlie told me gruffly when I got inside. "Someone named Glen? He called damn near 50 times."

"Oh, sorry, Dad."

As if on cue the phone rang. I picked it up with an apologetic smile to Charlie and headed up the stairs.

"Hello?"

"Char! Took you long enough. We need to talk."

"No, Glen, we don't," I told him tersely. "I'm fine, alright? I was just stressed earlier because I wasn't expecting..."

"Don't make excuses."

Well alright then. Strategy number two.

"I heard something today that you'd be interested in."

"And don't change the subject!"

"Vampires, Glen. Real live ones."

"_Char_, I'm serious. Why can't you just talk about this?"

"They go to my high school."

"I feel like you need... Wait, what? You're so full of shit."

That at least made me laugh. "The natives here have some legend about men who turn into wolves and their sworn enemies the _cold ones_... supposedly a bunch of weird teens in my school are actually blood suckers."

In Glen's silence I could practically feel his desire to hear more. But he's stronger than that, apparently.

"Nice try, but I won't be swayed so easily."

"Glen... there's nothing to talk about."

"Of course there is."

"Like what? I hate thinking about it and I can't watch movies about it without having a complete breakdown. You think talking about it will be much better? It won't Glen, just give it up."

"Char–"

"Goodnight."

So maybe the abrupt hang up was a dick move. Hopefully the message was clear enough that I wouldn't have to worry about him calling back. I sighed and brought the phone downstairs. It was late and I hadn't eaten, but I found to my surprise that I wasn't particularly hungry.

"I'm going to bed," I told Charlie, and he looked at the clock with a furrowed brow. Eight probably was a little early for a 17 year old boy's bedtime, but I couldn't manage to care.

I kicked my jeans and shoes off, letting them fall to the floor before I piled under the covers. The early bedtime didn't help. I lie awake staring out the window for what must have been hours, before sitting up and grabbing my book bag. A quick glance at the clock told me it was two in the morning. I grabbed my iPod, shoving the buds into my ears. I sat awake all night, doing homework in the middle of my bed with only my lamp on. But I couldn't sleep. I was too scared of the nightmares to do that, although I couldn't quite pinpoint what I thought those nightmares might be of... the past that haunted me, or the past the Quiluete natives still told stories of.

The sun rose too quickly, although it didn't make the day much brighter. I had yet to attend my new first period class, music, and although I was unreasonably frightened to see Edward Cullen striding into class ahead of me just before the bell rang, I felt an acute sense of relief when I noted that the class was hardly full.

Edward was not the only person in the class sitting alone. A boy with badly dyed hair and just as awful black makeup sat alone in the back corner.

I approached the teacher and we discussed arrangements quietly.

"Well, I do try to encourage students to work in groups in this class. Unfortunately, Mr. Hardy refuses to work with Mr. Cullen." The music teacher, Mr. White, told me this in a rather ironic tone. I got the impression that he probably shouldn't be telling me this but didn't much care either way. "So, you choose either one to work with."

"I– you can't make me choose," I said, feeling my face go pale. He raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I'll feel bad for choosing one person over another."

The teacher actually laughed at me a little. But I couldn't be left to choose. I wasn't sure if I was afraid that I _would _end up sitting next to Edward that way, or if I was afraid because I wouldn't.

Mr. White stared at me in obvious amusement for a moment before glancing between Edward and the boy in the back. I noted that Edward had his usual intense gaze going on, but for once it wasn't trained on me. He watched the teacher with a furrowed brow before grinning and turning to his books.

"Mr. Swan, I base projects in this class off of a student's personal music taste; I like to make things as enjoyable for everyone as it possibly can be. We're in the middle of a fairly important project right now, actually. Tell me honestly, do you think your music taste is more like Mr. Cullen's, or Mr. Hardy's?"

I bit my lip. "To be fair, I don't really know what either of them enjoys."

"I assure you Mr. Hardy's music taste is exactly what you think it is."

"Right then."

I sighed and took the seat next to Edward, feeling his amusement coming off him like a shroud.

"Do you not like Marilyn Manson?" he finally asked.

Two days ago I might not have noticed, but suddenly it occurred to me that a question like that could only be coming from someone who'd overheard my conversation with Mr. White. And Edward's seat was in the back of the classroom. I looked over at him sharply, and felt my heart speed up in fear. It must have shown on my face, because he appeared concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Covering my hands with my face, I breathed deeply. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

When I glanced over again Edward's facial expression was open and calm.

"This is going to sound very random but I feel you can learn a lot about a person by asking this."

His lips quirked. "Okay."

"Do you play with your food?"

"Excuse me." Edward's face was shockingly blank for one moment. He recovered admirably enough that I might not have noticed it if I hadn't been looking for strange reactions.

"Before you eat it... do you play with your food?"

"I... well." Again, his lip twitched as if it wanted to smile but he wouldn't let it. "On occasion, yes. It rather depends on what I'm eating."

Fantastic. It's just that your obvious amusement at everything I do makes me feel somewhat like you're playing with me.

"My food isn't often all that fun to play with, though," Edward continued in a tone that suggested we were talking about something much more entertaining than we actually were. Of course, if I assumed that Jacob was right, I suppose that it likely was. "I'm a vegetarian. It can be rather bland."

I felt my whole body deflate in relief. Okay, so admittedly that was some weird code for "I don't eat humans" and I knew it, but he didn't know that I knew... Which meant, technically it was a lie since I was positive Edward Cullen hadn't eaten a vegetable in... God knows how long. But I believed him, or at least believed what I thought he was implying... and was more than a little relieved that this meant I likely wasn't on the menu.

"Right, class, go ahead and get to work you know what you're doing... Mr. Swan... well, Mr. Cullen can fill you in."

Mr. White sat at his desk with a rather weary look and began nursing what I hoped was a coffee.

"So, what _do_ you listen to?" Edward asked.

"The project?" I asked.

"It can wait."

I probably should have insisted we get straight to school work, seeing as I'd been transferred into this class for the sole purpose of not failing, but the look on his face was so earnest and interested, like it actually made some monumental difference, that I couldn't bring myself to say no.

"Um... I listen to everything. Not even everything except country... I even listen to that. Oh, that's not true. I don't listen to metal, or scream... Nothing too thrashy for me. You?"

Edward chuckled. "That was barely an answer, but... I have fairly varied tastes as well. I think Josh–" He nodded his chin in the gothic boy's direction. "– might actually be surprised. He refuses to work with me on the grounds that I am a 'prep,' as it were. But I listen to much of the music that he sometimes talks about."

I must have looked horrified because he continued, "I said _varied_. I listen to classical, mostly. But the point is my tastes range from cultured to thrashy."

"Classical music _is_ thrashy," I muttered, thinking of the cacophonous orchestral pieces Glen sometimes had playing when I went in his house.

"I would hardly call Debussy thrashy," Edward murmured.

"Oh yeah, he's alright. He's not classical though, is he..?" I was admittedly a bit out of depth here. Glen was the music expert (in fact, he was the expert on everything); I was just the guy who sat by and absorbed his culture lessons while smoking pot and vaguely hoping I would forget half of it later.

"No... You're right, he isn't technically classical. He's a Romantic composer." Edward's eyes were positively alight with interest, which was at least a little bit concerning. "Not many people can discern between them, though."

I shrugged. "Well, whatever... The project?"

Edward stared intently at my face for a moment before agreeing and spent the rest of the class meticulously explaining every detail of the project.

Next was English. The teacher's drone effectively disabled any conversation between Edward and I. The class passed in boredom, unlike media studies. The movie this time was innocent enough, thank God, but what really threw me was when Rosalie Hale entered the classroom and set a perfect, hand written copy of the notes to date on my desk.

"Oh, uh.. Thanks," I said, wondering why she had taken the effort. They definitely hadn't been photocopied. Maybe she'd kept the photocopy figuring it would be easier for her to read, since she'd already written them?

I looked up into her face and found that it was surprisingly gentle, given the glares I'd received from both Hales since the incident with Tyler's van. However neither Rosalie or Jasper said anything, simply sitting statuesque next to me in the dark room.

At lunch, Edward's family was sitting together as usual, but every time I looked up he was focused on me rather than on his siblings.

It took some considerable strength to ignore him, but I did. Strangely, I found myself sagging with disappointment when Biology came and he wasn't there.

"There is a blood drive in Port Angeles next week," Mr. Banner was saying at the front of the room. "So I thought today we could do blood typing so you would all know your blood type."

He looked immensely proud of himself, probably thinking it was a fantastic idea. He demonstrated to the class how it would be done, drawing a tiny amount of blood from Mike Newton's finger. Mr. Banner came around to prick everyone's finger, since apparently some moron in the third period class had made him decide that seventeen year olds can't be trusted with a finger pricker (I wasn't sure I wanted to know how).

I watched the others having theirs done and it didn't bother me in the slightest. But for some reason when Mr. Banner approached the thought of a needle going into my skin made me incredibly nauseous. I had a sudden rush of unwanted thoughts and recoiled.

"Are you scared of needles?" he asked, blinking owlishly at me.

"I'm not scared," I said, "Just tired. I've had way too many needles in my lifetime. Actually I think I'll..."

I stood quickly, shoving away from my desk. It occurred to me suddenly that everyone was staring at me. I walked as calmly as I could out the door, hoping that it wasn't apparent on my face that I was going to be sick. I rushed outside, immediately throwing up into a garbage can. The rain felt refreshing on my back as I sat on the steps with my head in my hands.

"Char?" I looked up into Edward's concerned face. "Are you alright?"

I smiled weakly. "Apparently I don't do needles anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Well I had nothing against them a year ago."

"Do you need a ride home? You don't look well."

"I'm fine. I should go to my next class anyway. I'll have missed it two days in a row if I don't go." I rubbed my hand over my face, breaking our gaze.

"Really, I can drive you home."

"Edward, I'm _fine_." I might have been annoyed at his persistence, except that the look on his face appeared to be one of genuine concern. "Really," I added more gently this time, "I don't need to go home. I already did that yesterday."

"Hmm, yes. I noted that you weren't at lunch. Jasper said you were in his third period class."

I sensed a much heavier meaning in that statement than the words alone suggested. Part of me wanted to demand what his foster brother had told him, but I doubted that it was a very subtle approach. I hadn't even wondered if the Hales had observed my strange behaviour during class yesterday.

"Whatever," I finally muttered, having given up on ever figuring Edward Cullen and his hidden meanings out. "I'll see you tomorrow, Cullen."

I brushed past him and sat in my truck listening to my iPod until the next class started. Lauren ended up being in this class, a writing class that seemed to focus primarily on essays. She mentioned that Jessica would likely pick us up around 3:45.

Right. I had agreed to be the men's voice on a girl shopping trip. I had to bite back a groan of despair thinking about it. But at least it was something to do. Something better than sitting around and missing Phoenix and all it represented, anyway. And hopefully better than spending my time thinking obsessively of Edward Cullen.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

The girls chattered incessantly as we left Forks. I reminded myself that they were being very kind by inviting me to go on their shopping spree and that it was an opportunity to leave the house unsupervised. I was expecting several hours of freedom, although I acknowledged sadly that I was rather chained to a group of babbling teenagers during this "freedom."

I sat in the backseat with Angela, who thankfully is capable of making conversation outside fashion and boys. Angela was going to the dance with Eric, a guy I found very chess club but at least very friendly. But after I asked her who she was going with out of politeness she steered the conversation toward slightly more interesting things.

We ended up discussing some novel she was reading, actually. I recognized it as being one that Ben had been trying to get me to read.

"Hmm.. My friend Ben keeps telling me to read that," I told her. "Which is why I don't. There's a good chance if Ben suggests it that it's quite girly."

She laughed, "Oh it isn't! It's great, you should check it out."

Conversation with Angela was easy, thankfully so I barely noticed the time go by. Very soon we were there. Jessica drove us past a number of charming boutiques and straight to a large department store.

"Alright, ladies, let's get in and out as fast as possible," I declared as we entered.

They laughed. "Hush," Jessica said, "This is a process."

Oh no.

Angela knew what looked best on her and settled on a dress rather quickly. I was relieved for that much, at least.

Jessica quickly narrowed it down to two dresses and it was quite easy to see which one looked better on her.

"Oh, I'm so good at this," I said, and generally got laughed at once more.

Lauren was another story. She found one dress that was quite tasteful, in my limited opinion, but just had to keep sifting through more until she found "the one." I didn't get it, really, she'd already found a decent one, so I thought we should be out the door by then.

"Oh, _this_ one, for sure!" Lauren's voice came from the dressing room.

Such was my thought process: _Great! We'll be out of here... oh hell no._

"Um, I might just be, you know... a boy who knows shit all about fashion, but that's fucking ugly."

Lauren looked appalled. "It's awesome!"

The "dress" was sort of a scrap of fabric that... kind of covered her chest and her ass. But not really.

"I can assure, 100%, that Tyler would not find that attractive."

"Well why the hell not?"

"I... I mean, I'm a regular guy. I love checking out chicks. But..." I struggled to find the words to explain what I was thinking. At least, words nicer than the ones that came to mind. Which were: _You look like a prostitute, and not even a high class one._ "I didn't think I'd ever see the day when I saw a girl... in an outfit that I consider too slutty. But that day has come."

Laren gaped at me. "It looks... bad?"

"It looks..." I floundered and looked to Jessica and Angela for help. They looked away, I think trying not to laugh. "I just think that... um. You know what's sexy? Confidence and self-respect." Yes, I pulled the self-respect trick. Girls dig that shit.

Lauren considered this. It was then that Angela piped up, saying, "I liked the red one."

"_Yes_," Jessica agreed quickly. "The red one was perfect."

Lauren grabbed the dress in question and headed back into the changing room to try it on again. When the door closed behind her I exchanged horrified glances with the other two. Jessica made shooing motions and said, "Well now that we've found our dresses we'll move on to shoes or something... We might go clothes shopping. You don't have to stick around if you don't want."

I got the feeling she was sending me away so that Lauren could bitch in private about me calling her dress of choice slutty. I was quite grateful, actually. We agreed to meet at a restaurant across the street in an hour and a half. Angela quietly gave me some directions to a nearby book store, for which I was glad, but once I got outside into the fresh air all I felt like doing was walking.

I hadn't realized how stir crazy I was going in Charlie's house until I was actually faced with the opportunity to just walk around wherever I pleased.

I wandered.

The sky was darkening as I strolled aimlessly, doing nothing but sifting through my thoughts. A week ago I'd been distracting myself and sleeping to avoid thinking, or letting my obsession over Edward Cullen flourish just to avoid the memories of Phoenix and everything that had happened there. Now thinking of Cullen made me terrified and unsure. Was it possible that he was a vampire? Yes, I'd definitely decided that I believed that part. But there was more... he had known what I was talking about that day with Mr. White. And he had known more than that; I remembered his facial expression as he stared intently at Mr. White before he'd gently implied I'd be better partnering up with Cullen. Edward. I supposed we were on a first name basis now.

After all, I _had _seemed to uncover his deepest, darkest secret. I snickered at the thought, and was surprised to hear it gently echoed. I glanced up, not having realized how completely silent things were until the calm was broken. I took a quick look over my shoulder. Four guys were meandering along behind me, laughing together about something.

I took stock of my surroundings and became aware that I seemed to have entered the warehouse district. I didn't see and lit streets or buildings, just massive steel walls and empty pavement. I sighed and kicked a pebble across the street, turning the corner and hoping I found my way back soon. Turning a corner, I glanced at my watch and cringed to see that more time had passed than I'd intended to allow before heading back to meet the girls.

I strained my ears for the sounds of city– or at least town– life, but all I heard was my footsteps. And theirs. I frowned. A subtle peek backwards showed that two of the guys from before were still behind me. A chill spread through my body just beneath my ribs. What were the chances that they were headed the same direction as me, rounding the same corners... for innocent purposes? Especially considering I had no idea where I was going.

My steps faltered, but I forced myself to walk on even as I felt myself begin to shake and my breathing speed up.

_Maybe they're muggers_, I told myself a bit desperately, more than willing to hand over my wallet and my debit card and hell, I would tell them the PIN, they could take it all... but somehow I didn't think I was that lucky.

I turned another corner and was relieved to see a slightly busier street up ahead. Admittedly, it was farther than I was comfortable with, but I could make it. I had to.

But not far down the street I saw two more men emerge from an alley. I froze to the spot, understanding suddenly that I wasn't being followed. I was being herded.

Maybe I should have tried some desperate escape plan. I couldn't. All I could do was close my eyes and wait for it to end.

I felt all the energy drain from my body; every day that had passed since I'd arrived to Forks, everything I'd gone through to get away from Phoenix, seemed worthless.

_Why me_? I wondered, pulling in a shuddering breath and finding that it hurt, it fucking hurt just to breathe. I wanted to die. Anything but this. I couldn't handle this again. I couldn't–

My eyelids swam with the red brightness that suggests a light in your face. I heard a car squealing to a stop and then a familiar voice saying, "Get in."

I opened my eyes slowly. I saw Edward's face– a mask of terrible, primal anger– through the passenger door, which he'd already thrown open. He looked frightening. But nothing was as frightening as the idea of going through the hell I'd suffered eight months ago again.

I flung myself into the front seat and pulled the door shut, covering my face with my hands. The car immediately accelerated as Edward peeled away down the street.

"Char?" he asked after a long stretch of silence. Of course, I only called it silence out of abject shame. I was having a breakdown in Edward Cullen's car. The car was filled with the sound of my gasped, choked sobs. I felt the car stop. Edward's hand gently touched the back of my hand. I could feel the hesitance of the slow brush of his ice-cold fingers over my skin. I flinched away, horrified at the idea of another person _touching_ me, putting their hands on my body, and–

But then it occurred to me, in a sudden revelatory fashion, that Edward had saved me. I had literally been walking through my worst nightmare all over again, except this time it hadn't been a horrible memory replaying itself, it had been real, and this time the face of my attacker was different. But, like in my dreams lately, Edward Cullen had been there.

Emotion can be a dangerous thing. If my past had been different, perhaps I wouldn't have reacted the way I did. But suddenly Edward Cullen was like a god to me; even my best friends, who I loved so dearly and who stood by me so fiercely after I'd gone through everything I had– but that was just it. They'd been there afterward, and I was so grateful, but Edward had been there in time to stop it.

I was overwhelmingly, overpoweringly grateful and admiring of him.

I threw my arms around Edward's neck, and he stiffened, likely thinking me psychotic. I admit the incoherent babbling and crying probably didn't help my case.

"_Thank you_," I managed to choke, and tried several times to string together a sentence, but I'm sure it sounded like gibberish. I barely managed to get five words in a proper sequence before my mouth started betraying me and throwing out unrelated words.

Edward's arms tightened around me briefly, and it was that gesture that brought me back to my senses. I pulled away, hastily wiping my face of stray tears.

I breathed deeply for a few moments.

Edward was staring at me wide-eyed. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"What?" I croaked.

"Are you hungry? You should eat. Honestly, I'm worried you may go into shock."

"Edward, I'm not going into shock over nothing."

He gave me an incredulous look.

"Really, it was nothing," I told him quietly, before he could say anything. "Thanks to you," I added. "But, yes, I am hungry. I promised the girls I would go to dinner with them."

Edward drew in a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I– alright. Yes."

He started the car, and pulled smoothly out of the empty parking lot we'd been parked in. I noticed that his fingers were clenched tightly around the steering wheel, and his shoulders were set very stiffly.

"Are you alright?" I asked him curiously.

"Am _I _alright? I–" Edward looked at me sideways and stopped suddenly, expression bleak. "No, I'm not alright," he said curtly. "I've never been so upset in my life. I just– God, when I heard what they were going to do... It's all I can do not to hunt them down and–"

Edward cut himself off again, pulling onto the main strip. My mind was whirring with the implications of what he had said. He'd _heard_? What did he mean? I thought of the things he seemed to have overheard between Mr. White and I...

But my thoughts were quickly cut off. He stopped the car at the curb and I saw that Angela, Jessica, and Lauren were walking down the street a few feet ahead. I glanced quickly in the side mirror. I looked like I'd been crying or something. Which I had.

"I'm ill," I told Edward.

"What?" he asked, sounding horrified.

"I'm_ ill_," I told him tersely between gritted teeth and opened the car door with maybe more force than was necessary.

"Char?" I heard Angela ask, surprised to see me getting out of a random car probably.

Edward got out from the front seat and the girls' jaws all dropped open.

He smiled blandly.

"We ran into each other," I told them, my voice horribly scratchy.

"You look... awful," Lauren muttered, staring at me.

"Yes," Edward cut in. "When I ran into him downtown he was quite ill."

"Oh my gosh, are you alright?" Angela asked.

"It passed," I muttered. "It was one of those weird hour long stomach things."

"Those are the worst," Jessica said, but her concentration seemed more on Edward than on me.

Edward hummed in agreement. "Actually, since he was sick, Char should eat. Have you eaten dinner yet?"

The girls looked shamed for a moment. "You were late..." Angela said, trailing off.

"It's no problem, really. I'll find something. I was late. Sorry."

"Yes, but you were sick, and now I feel so bad," she added with a weak laugh.

"Really, it isn't a problem."

"It's just... it's getting dark and we don't have time to really go somewhere else, unless you're cool with fast food or something?" Jessica offered.

"Considering you've just been ill," Edward cut in before I could agree, "Perhaps you should eat something a bit more substantial. I can drive you home."

"I–" I had a feeling arguing would get you nowhere. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

The three girls nodded, and scurried off down the street after wishing goodnight to both me and Edward.

He jerked his head to the side. "Italian ok?"

I glanced up into the sign hanging above the door in front of us. La Bella Italia.

"Yeah, it's fine," I told him, my voice surprisingly even despite the turmoil within me.

I paid little attention as the waitress led us to our table. I was vaguely aware that she ended up bringing us to a second table after she'd already headed in one direction, but I didn't care much.

I slid into the booth and perused the menu with disinterest. I realized that both Edward and the waitress– a different girl from the one who had led us to the table– were staring at me, and tried to think of the words they'd been speaking, which had only vaguely filtered through my head before.

"Oh? Uh, I'll have a Coke."

"I'll have the same," Edward told her.

I closed the menu, deciding on the mushroom ravioli. It wouldn't make much of a difference anyway. I realized very suddenly that I was starving. I would eat whatever they set in front of me.

After copying down my order, she smiled flirtatiously at Edward and walked away, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked.

I looked up into his brilliant golden eyes. "I'm fine, Edward. Really, I... What happened, honestly, was nothing."

"Nothing," Edward repeated blandly. "That was not _nothing_, Char." His voice was severe now, and harsher than I expected.

"Edward– It..." I trailed off, examining the wooden grain of the table. "This isn't a big deal, since you were there to help me. I've been through worse than an _attempted _rape, Edward."

I hoped that he understood the inflections of that and let the situation drop.

When I looked back into his face, it was agonized. I surmised that he did, in fact, understand what I was telling him.

Before he could say something, I changed topics. "So, can I voice a theory, or will you be angry?"

"A theory about what?" Edward asked begrudgingly, clearly put out that I was switching subjects. But I was glad that he had the sensitivity not to push the issue. It wasn't something I enjoyed talking about. Or telling people about.

In fact I wasn't sure why I'd told him, why I thought I could trust him with that knowledge. My parents didn't even know.

I forced my thoughts to the side abruptly.

"About what you are," I murmured.

Edward's gaze tightened for a moment. "What I am... I don't think you want to know," he whispered.

"I think I already do know."

"No." Edward's eyes became closeted, almost blank. "You don't. Otherwise you wouldn't be here with me. You don't understand, Char, I'm not possibly what you think. I know..." Edward scoffed. "In your eyes I must seem like a hero."

"You are," I said, quirking an eyebrow. "That's twice now, actually, that you've... saved me." My lips twitched; suddenly I was aware that I had been behaving like a damsel in distress, and it was moderately embarrassing.

"I'm not a hero, Char. Have you ever considered that maybe... I'm one of the bad guys?"

I scoffed. "You might be dangerous, Edward–"

"I am."

"Yes, I know. But I refuse to believe that you're evil."

Our conversation was cut off just then by the waitress' return with my food. I quickly ate several mouthfuls, internally chuckling at the blatant innuendos she was making toward Edward while asking if she could get him anything else.

She left looking disappointed.

"So," I spoke up after shoveling several bites into my mouth. "Since you seem rather touchy on the subject... perhaps I'll start with one of my lighter theories. Tell me, hypothetically if one were to read minds, how would they go about doing that? What are the limitations? And... how would that person know to find someone else, at exactly the right time?"

Edward furrowed his brow and we sat in silence. I wondered if I had been wrong. But– the things he'd said earlier, I thought...

"You're far more observant than I realized," he finally muttered. "Too observant, actually." Then he sat up and smiled blandly. "Hypothetically..." His facial expression hardened into one of barely concealed fury. "If this mind reader had been paying more attention, the timing wouldn't have had to be so exact." He sighed, shaking his head, and then added softly, "I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner."

"This was a hypothetical case," I reminded him, my voice think. "And I told you–"

"That wasn't... nothing. If you had been able to walk away from it without breaking down completely, I might believe you. Just because you left in time doesn't mean it didn't affect you. It clearly did. And I wish I'd been there sooner. You clearly aren't over-"

"Edward, stop." I knew what he was about to say and regretted my broad hint dropping earlier. "Stop... guilting yourself."

He let out a gusty sigh. "I should have been paying better attention. It's just... only you could find trouble in a town so small. It might have–"

He cut himself off suddenly. I got the feeling he was holding himself back from saying something that might offend me. Part of me was angry that he was treating me like some frail creature that needed to be protected... another part of me remembered thinking why me, and hated the fact that he was right. I did seem to attract more trouble than I was worth.

Ugh. I swallowed angrily and stared at the table so he wouldn't see the hurt I was sure had taken over my features.

We sat in silence. I ate, more slowly now, and drank my Coke. Edward pushed his toward me when I was finished.

"I suppose you consider yourself part of that?" I asked.

"Part of what?"

I smiled weakly. "The trouble I attract."

"Unequivocally."

I snorted and wanted to mock his use of that word when he could have just said yes, but I didn't.

"Well, you seem to do more to help me than to hurt me. You knew how to find me..." I prompted again, wanting to lead our conversation out of the darkness we seemed to have fallen into.

"It's harder than it should be — keeping track of you. Usually I can find someone very easily, once I've heard their mind before." He looked at me anxiously, and I realized I had frozen. I made myself swallow, then stabbed another ravioli and tossed it in.

"Yes... I was keeping tabs on Angela, not carefully — like I said, only you could find trouble in Port Angeles — and at first I didn't notice when you took off on your own. Then, when I realized that you weren't with her anymore, I went looking for you at the bookstore I saw in her head. I could tell that you hadn't gone in, and that you'd gone south… and I knew you would have to turn around soon. So I was just waiting for you, randomly searching through the thoughts of people on the street — to see if anyone had noticed you so I would know where you were. I had no reason to be worried… but I was strangely anxious…" He was lost in thought, staring past me, seeing things I couldn't imagine.

"I started to drive in circles, still… listening. The sun was finally setting, and I was about to get out and follow you on foot. And then —" He stopped, clenching his teeth together in sudden fury. He made an effort to calm himself.

"Then what?" I whispered. He continued to stare over my head.

"I heard what they were thinking," he growled, his upper lip curling slightly back over his teeth. "I saw your face in his mind." He suddenly leaned forward, one elbow appearing on the table, his hand covering his eyes. The movement was so swift it startled me.

"Edward," I soothed. "Relax."

"Relax?" he snapped. "It was hard– so hard... not to get out of the car, when you were getting in. I wanted to crush them."

We sat in silence. Edward was so still, face in hand, that I almost thought he may have been carved from stone. I found that my appetite was suddenly much less than it had been.

Finally he looked up, his eyes seeking mine, full of his own questions.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked.

"I– yes. Let's go."

Edward summoned the waitress and ignored her flirting, as he had been all night. He paid before I had a chance to protest and was leading me from the restaurant even as I bridled angrily at being coddled.

I quickly fiddled with the heat setting as we got in the car, not particularly caring if Edward liked it set a certain way. I was quite angry with him, just then.

"Sorry, I don't need heat or anything, so it slips my mind sometimes that you might," he murmured, and his voice sounded apologetic enough that I had to forgive him for being a prat in general, since I sensed that he didn't do it on purpose. I remembered what he had said that day in the parking lot at school: "_believe it or not, I often try to be as bearable as possible. But I can't tell whether what I say at anytime will annoy you_."

"I have one more question before I present my theories."

"What's that?" he asked.

"You can't... hear me, can you?"

Edward looked sideways at me, not paying attention to the freeway before us for a long time. His gaze was intense.

"No, I can't. I wonder why," he mused. "I think perhaps... it's like I can only pick up AM, and you run on FM."

"You're calling me a freak?" I grumbled.

"I've just told you I read minds and you're worried that you're the freak?" he laughed.

I relaxed at that. Perhaps he had a point.

"Oh, I have another question."

"You said just one more..."

"Well, here's another. You said... you were keeping tabs on Angela. What were you doing in Port Angeles?"

His expression became abashed. "I followed you to Port Angeles."

"_What_?"

He flinched. "I was worried." His voice was almost a whine. "I feel very... protective of you, and I was scared of you being hurt."

I wanted to be angry at that. I desperately wanted to insist that I was no damsel in need of rescuing. Really, I did. But given the way events had unfolded, I was only grateful.

He seemed to sense that when I sighed loudly without resorting to yelling.

"So," Edward said significantly, then, eyes on the road. "Your turn."


	10. Chapter 10

10.

"You still haven't explained to me how mind reading works," I murmured.

"You're changing the subject," Edward said, and I noted sadness in his voice and on his face. "Is your theory really that bad?"

I sighed and looked away.

He said, "It's like being in a room full of chattering people. Their voices are just a hum in the background, until I focus on one and then I can hear what they're thinking. I can't hear anyone, anywhere. I need to be fairly close, and often the more familiar I am with their mind, the farther I can be from them. But still, no more than a few miles. Most of the time I try to ignore it. That way it's easier to be 'normal' when I'm not answering questions people haven't said out loud... Now, are we finished with being evasive?"

I fingered the hem of my long sleeved t-shirt, picking mindlessly at a loose thread. "I ran into an old friend, from when I used to visit Forks as a young boy." Edward said nothing, perhaps sensing that this was not my way of avoiding the unspoken question. His face was interested and open. I kept Jacob's name out of the story, remembering the look on his face as he confessed that he'd technically just broken the treaty. "His father is a Quiluete elder." Edward froze as I said this. We sat for a short time in silence before he encouraged me to continue.

"He told me stories.. About vampires."

"And you immediately thought of me?" Edward asked quietly.

"Well. Your family was mentioned actually. But... the things he said did... fit."

"This was before today... recently... wasn't it," Edward mused.

"Yes, last night. Why?"

He looked at me with a pained expression. "You asked if I play with my food this morning."

_Oh, that_. I covered my face with my hands. "Sometimes the way you act makes me feel like I'm being toyed with," I confessed. Edward looked distressed and opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "But you confirmed what I was already almost certain of."

"What's that?"

"That you're a... vegetarian, as you put it."

Edward grunted. "My diet... that's a rather important topic between us, don't you think?"

"No. I know I'm not on the menu."

Edward growled. "I don't want you to be on the menu, that doesn't mean– I make mistakes, Char. Human blood is hard to resist sometimes."

"Is it hard to resist right now?"

"Yes. Extremely so."

"But you aren't hungry. You've been... hunting recently. Or whatever you guys call it."

He looked confused. "How do you know that?"

"Your eyes."

Edward's face was contorted in shock.

I laughed at that, just a little, shrugging. "I– and most guys I know– get pretty pissy when I'm hungry. And... so do you, quite frankly. Your eyes are darker when you're in a worse mood. So... drawing the logical connection..."

He allowed his lips to turn up, but a moment later he was frowning fiercely again.

"Do you just not care?" he asked suddenly, his voice seething.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a vampire. I drink blood. Animal blood, mostly, but there's always a possibility I'll slip up."

I sighed. He really couldn't let go of this, could he? "I trust you not to."

"I have before," he told me.

"How old are you?" I asked then, completely ignoring his last comment. I wasn't about to sit around and discuss him eating me, though that seemed what he was most interested in doing.

"Seventeen," he answered promptly, apparently willing to let me steer the conversation.

"How long have you been seventeen?"

"Awhile," he admit after a moment, smiling a bit.

"So... Now that I've confirmed my theory, I do have a few more questions."

"You're too curious."

"How can you come out in the daytime?" I pressed.

"Myth." Edward was laughing at me.

"Burned by the sun?"|

"Myth."

"Sleeping in coffins?"

"Myth." Edward hesitated a moment, and then said in a peculiar tone, "I can't sleep."

"Not ever?"

"No."

Edward's face looked wistful, but I envied him.

"You're lucky," I muttered, and added weakly, "No nightmares."

"Do you have nightmares often?" Edward's voice was nearly inaudible.

"Every night. But... some nights not as bad as others." Given the day's events, I wondered if my dreams would be terrible or gentle.

I hardly wanted Edward to question me further, and he didn't. I suspected it was because he already guessed what my nightmares were about.

The car drifted down the black road, and a heavy silence settled between us. But it wasn't awkward, thankfully. Yet I couldn't let it stretch on; it occurred to me suddenly that I had no idea how much time I had with Edward, and for reasons I couldn't quite place, this distressed me. I felt like I couldn't waste a single minute with him.

"Why don't you hunt animals?" I asked him, leaning back into the head rest and closing my eyes. I paid attention to nothing but the sound of his voice as he responded.

"I don't _want _to be a monster," he said. "But I can't very well stop eating altogether."

"Would you die?" I wondered aloud, morbidly curious.

"No," he chuckled. "I would just slip slowly into madness and then go on an uncontrollable hunt for blood, except that I would no longer have the intellect to discern between human and animal."

I opened my eyes and stared at him; it felt like my eyelids were trying to curl up into my socket.

His expression was dark with amusement, and I understood that this was his way of trying to scare me off.

"Well, keep up with your diet then, please." I tried to keep my tone as noncommital as possible; it must have worked because he focused on the road once more, expression perturbed.

I glanced out the window and realized that our surroundings were very familiar.

"We're back already?" I exclaimed, looking at the clock. Barely 20 minutes had passed since we'd left Port Angeles. I looked at the speedometer and understood instantly.

"Dear God, we'll be a Volvo pretzel."

Edward looked confused. "Um, pardon?"

"You're going over 100," I told him a little dazedly.

"Well, yes. But I promise I'm a very good driver."

I would have argued, but he'd gotten me this far safely already.

All too soon Edward's car had been turned smoothly into Charlie's driveway. We sat in silence and blackness before I breathed deeply, and undid my seat belt.

I tried to think of something to say, but all I could manage was a simple "Goodnight, Edward."

I opened the car door and set one foot out into the misting rain.

"Char?" I heard behind me.

When I turned I found myself face to face with Edward, mere inches separating us.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Uhm, maybe." This close, I noticed that he smelled unnaturally good. I wondered if it was a vampire thing, or an Edward thing, and then had to ask myself where that thought had possibly come from.

He smiled, very briefly. "Don't go into the woods alone."

"Why?"

"I'm not always the most dangerous thing out there."

I nodded. "Sure thing."

Edward dipped his chin in approval and leaned away. I stepped out of the car, resting my hand on the frame for a brief moment as the rain drizzled against my back.

"Edward?"

He had been staring at his hands, but looked up at me curiously.

"Thank you," I said one more time before shutting the door and heading inside. As I crossed the threshold I became suddenly aware that I was hungry once more, which was funny considering I had finished eating under half an hour ago.

"Char?"

Charlie was sitting on the sofa, staring at me strangely as I came in.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You're back early, is all."

I looked at the clock. It wasn't quite eight yet.

"Damn good thing, too," I found myself saying before I was quite aware of thinking it. "I consider myself a pretty patient guy, but even I can only handle so much girl drama before I explode."

Charlie snorted, and I took it as some sort of agreement.

I quickly headed to the kitchen and made a grilled cheese sandwich, only because it was relatively fast and I was bloody hungry. And it was one of few things we had the ingredients for. Charlie and I lived on a buy-it-when-you-need-it basis, but I wondered if one of us shouldn't try to actually stock up our kitchen sometime.

I ate as I trudged upstairs, and as I had for the last two nights, kicked off my jeans and shoes and slept in whatever I had left on.

I woke up at 7 and eagerly bounced out of bed. _No nightmares_! Well, one... but it ended sooner rather than later when a car pulled alongside me on the dark road and all I had to do to escape was step inside.

I was throwing my things into my school bag, for once not dreading classes with Edward but anticipating them, when I realized: it was Saturday. I sank back into bed with a groan. This weekend was going to be a long one.


	11. Chapter 11

11.

It seemed to me like there was very little sense in sitting around and waiting for something to happen, when clearly nothing would. I was in high need of a distraction, so I scrounged up some money that was intended for food and headed to the Thriftway. As I was pulling into the parking lot my phone buzzed.

I worried that it might be another message from Glen but it was Matt instead.

_Remember going home last night w/ 2 girls. Woke up w/4. Life is good?_

I chuckled, pulling random food items into our cart if it looked like something Charlie and I could manage to cook with.

_All the time, _I replied, and a moment later sent a second saying, _Partying much then?_

Matt's response was quick. _Nope 1st since u left. Tons of booze and tons of disapproval from Ben/Glen._ _Cant believe u ditched me w/ the gloom twins._

Back at home I checked the mail box before heading inside, finding with surprise that there was a parcel slip inside for me. I unloaded the groceries slowly into the fridge and cupboards. Looking out the window I saw that in the distance the clouds had cleared, and I caught a glimpse of bright blue sky. I had nothing to do and thought briefly about driving out and going for a walk. Well, maybe later. For now I was sure I could scrounge up a few more errands.

First things first, I decided. To the post office. I hopped back in the truck, rather glad for the second trip across town. It was a good way to waste time. And all things considered, I was not about to turn down a good method for wasting time, since I desperately wanted it to pass me by at that point.

My parcel at the post office was rather small, and I saw by the return address that it was from Glen.

I waited until I was back home before I opened it, and waited even more until I was inside, sitting on the sofa. I undid the brown wrapping carefully, and was relieved to find what I thought was a fairly innocent gift.

It was just a few CDs with a note that said, "Some new-ish local groups plus obscure Cdn jazz artist I find quite awesome possum. Also un (1) French Cdn singer. Voice is dead sexy. And another Cdn band who I think you'll dig. Hopefully they will make Forks less suck. _Glen_."

I rolled my eyes. Obviously, Glen was going through some bizarre Canadian-music-fetish stage. I sent off a quick message to Matt asking about it before going upstairs to lug my CD player down to the kitchen. Grabbing one of the discs without paying much attention to what it was, I popped it in and set the music on.

I opened the fridge, glad I had decided to get groceries. It meant I had enough to make actual food other than bacon, eggs, and grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup.

I ended up making a simple omelette anyway, since I wasn't in the mood to attempt anything complicated. The CD I had ended up putting in was for the French singer. Glen is always trying to get me, Matt, and Ben to learn new languages. We've spent entire summers immersed in French lessons, Italian lessons, and Zulu lessons because it's Glen's idea of 'fun'. Funny that the four of us are fluent in an African dialect we'll never have use for, but at least one of us (me) is almost failing Spanish. And English, as it were.

I'd never taken to French as well as I had to Zulu. I could understand it and speak it a little bit, enough to get by, I supposed, if I were ever stranded in France (or Canada?). So I got the gist of the lyrics, but they sort of confused me. The first track appeared to be about... "the girl of the iceberg" or some shit. I wondered at Glen's musical taste with a wrinkled brow while I cooked.

My phone buzzed. _Yeah glen's real into all things Cdn rite now. Dunno y. humor him. Some of it isn't bad._

I set the phone aside without replying and finished up my omelette. The phone vibrated again. _One of the groups he's into is real good actually. They're called...idk something about pornographers._

I glanced at the pile of CDs Glen had sent. There was one group in there that fit the description. I switched discs, and found very quickly that they were much better than the French woman. Without giving much thought to it, I soon found myself dancing around the kitchen, probably looking like a total spaz.

That was how Edward Cullen found me. Shaking about in a dance that resembled an epileptic fit. To Canadian music.

He cleared his throat loudly and I jumped, shocked when I spun around to see him leaning in the doorway to the kitchen. Edward's perfect face was bright with amusement.

"What are you doing in my house?" I asked perhaps more sharply than I should have. But I was embarrassed at being caught in my stupid dance.

Edward chuckled. "I knocked. You obviously didn't hear over the music. Or perhaps you were just too distracted."

_By your 'sweet moves' _went left unsaid.

"They're not bad," Edward said suddenly, drifting toward the CD player. "Who are they?"

"Uhh... They're just some Canadian band." I tossed Edward the case carelessly and he caught it without even glancing up. He switched the player back to the first song.

I frowned fiercely.

"Don't I have to invite you in or some shit?"

Edward looked up, wide-eyed. He began laughing deeply after blinking at me for a moment.

"No, I can enter any house I want whenever I want, regardless of invitation."

After a few moments of listening to the music, Edward said, "This isn't what I came here for."

"Why _are_ you here?"

"It's sunny..." Edward began. I looked out the window.

"Not here," I muttered.

"No, but the clouds are clear just outside town. I was wondering... if you would come with me. I want to show you something."

"Show me what?"

Edward's lips quirked up in smile. "Me."

"Huh?"

"Will you come?"

I didn't exactly have anything else to do... and I'd be lying if I said I didn't _want_ to go somewhere with Edward.

"Sure," I said with a shrug, and headed into the entryway to get my jacket and sneakers. The music stopped, and when Edward emerged he had the stack full of CDs in his hands.

"I'm not stealing, I swear," he told me sheepishly when I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Together we headed out to Edward's car and he inserted the French CD into the player.

"I just want to know what you're listening to," Edward explained.

I shrugged, and when the first track came on I quickly skipped it. The second was decent, the third was great, and I hadn't heard the rest. And I didn't want to hear about iceberg girls anymore.

Edward drove us outside of town limits and down winding roads I didn't think were traveled often. He kept shooting me furtive, curious glances.

"What?" I finally asked.

Edward fidgeted a little. Then he shrugged. It felt strangely empowering, seeing him so awkward.

"You surprise me," Edward said. "You're failing your classes, you seem uninterested in anything that involves school or learning, and yet..." Edward shook his head. "Do you speak French?"

"Oh. A little. And I don't hate learning." _I hate life in general_. "I just... Well. School became less interesting after certain incidents that happened back home, and I never got back on track."

Edward nodded, a little stiffly. "I don't suppose..."

He cut himself off, lips pressed tightly together. He looked like a child who wanted something but was being reminded by their mother to behave.

"What?"

"Nothing," Edward said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's not.. My place."

Before I could encourage him to ask anyway, for some reason anxious to talk to him about anything... everything... he stopped the car.

"Alright, here we are."

I got out of the car, looking around us skeptically. He had brought us to a dead end dirt road, with wet, moss covered trees towering around us.

"One, it's still cloudy here. Two, we're at a dead end."

Edward laughed. "I'm afraid we're going to have to walk to our destination."

"Seriously?"

It was a good thing I ate. And I _had_ gotten a good night's rest. No nightmares, I reminded myself. Because of Edward. I practically owed it to him to take his little hike without complaint.

"Do you not think you could handle it?" Edward asked. His voice was teasing but I noticed that the lines around his eyes were tight.

I scoffed. "I'm not fragile, you know, Edward. Yes, I can handle a walk in the woods."

Edward studied my face for a moment before nodding and leading the way into the forest.

The hike turned out to be more than a little walk in the woods. It took at least a few hours, but Edward never showed any signs of impatience. There was no trail, but Edward seemed perfectly at ease, as if innately he could tell each tree from the last. I didn't mind the walk, though. It was peaceful, and after a while I became aware that the light filtering through the canopy had grown brighter above. The day was sunny, as Edward had told me it would be here.

"Are we there yet?" I teased after a while, pretending to scowl.

"Nearly." He smiled at the change in my mood. "Do you see the brightness ahead?"

I peered into the thick forest. "Um, should I?"

He smirked. "Maybe it's a bit soon for _your _eyes."

"Time to visit the optometrist," I muttered. His smirk grew more pronounced.

But after a few more minutes of walking I could definitely see brightness trickling through the trees ahead.

I walked directly toward the light then, and Edward followed behind noiselessly, content to let me lead since it was apparent where we were headed.

Coming out from beneath the cover of the trees, I found myself in a small, rounded meadow, filled with tall grass and tiny wildflowers– violet, yellow, white. The sun was directly overhead, filling the meadow with a haze of light. In the distance I could hear the sound of gently running water. It was beautiful, I acknowledged as I walked toward the center, but I was certain it wasn't what Edward wanted to show me.

I turned, my face almost definitely scrunched up in confusion. Edward stood still beneath the trees, peering out hesitantly. I glanced overhead, looking into the sun for a moment.

When I returned my gaze to Edward he breathed deeply, and stepped out into the brightness of the midday sun.

For a moment I felt my heart stutter, suddenly and inexplicably afraid that the light would hurt him. It didn't. Instead Edward's skin lit up as if it were encrusted by hundreds of tiny little diamonds.

It was impossible to get used to the sight of the person in front of me _sparkling_, like a perfectly polished statue. I paused, my thoughts crashing to a halt.

"You..."

Edward's curious gaze locked onto my face.

"You..." I stuttered one more time, barely able to _breathe_, let alone talk.

He drifted closer until he was directly in front of me. I looked him over, up and down.

"You sparkle," I said breathlessly, and then I burst into laughter, doubling over and clutching my sides. "Do _all_ vampires sparkle? Oh, that's... that's simply badass. How manly!"

Edward let out a disgusted sounding snort.

"Get stuffed," he muttered. "I can pick up a car with my bare hands."

"You fucking _sparkle!_" I exclaimed, and fell over onto the grass, shaking and unable to get in any air.

It took a long time for me to stop laughing. By the time I had gained control of myself there were tears in my eyes and Edward was scowling next to me on the grass.

"Hmm," I mused. "Vampire... nightwalker... day sparkler."

Edward's brow contorted into something that was almost like anger, except that his eyes were gentle. I was sure I'd be able to tell if a vampire was actually angry with me. I thought back to that first day in Bio. Yes. I would know.

"Alright, have you mocked me enough now?"

"How old are you, Edward?" I asked, willing to let the sparkling slide for about three minutes.

"I told you."

"Mm, tell me really though."

Edward sighed, laying down on the grass. "I think it might bother you," he confessed.

"Well, I want to hear it anyway."

I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested by chin between them.

"I was born in Chicago in 1901." He paused and glanced at me from the corner of hiseyes. My face was carefully unsurprised, patient for the rest. He smiled a tiny smile and continued. "Carlisle found me in a hospital in the summer of 1918. I was seventeen, and dying of the Spanish influenza."

He heard my intake of breath, though it was barely audible to my own ears. He looked over into my eyes again.

"I don't remember it well — it was a very long time ago, and human memories fade."

He was lost in his thoughts for a short time before he went on. "I do remember how it felt, when Carlisle saved me. It's not an easy thing, not something you could forget."

"Your parents?"

"They had already died from the disease. I was alone. That was why he chose me. In all the chaos of the epidemic, no one would ever realize I was gone."

"How did he… save you?"

A few seconds passed before he answered. He seemed to choose his words carefully.

"It was difficult. Not many of us have the restraint necessary to accomplish it. But Carlisle has always been the most humane, the most compassionate of us… I don't think you could find his equal throughout all of history." He paused. "For me, it was merely very, very painful."

I could tell from the set of his lips, he would say no more on this subject

"He acted from loneliness," Edward continued. "That's usually the reason behind the choice. I was the first in Carlisle's family, though he found Esme soon after. She fell from a cliff. They brought her straight to the hospital morgue, though, somehow, her heart was still beating."

"So, you have to be dying, to become a vampire?" I asked.

"No, that's just Carlisle. He would never force this existence upon someone who still had the opportunity of human life before him." His voice was saturated with profound respect as he spoke of his maker. "But he says it's easier, if the blood is weaker."

"Hm... So. You've been a vampire for..." I did the math as quickly as I could. "Eighty seven years?"

"Yes."

I smiled and couldn't stop myself from saying, "That's eighty seven years of sparkling you have to take a ribbing for, you realize."

Edward sat up, glaring at me. "You can't ever be serious, can you?"

"I don't like being serious," I told him, flopping down to rest my cheek on the ground. "I've had enough serious talks about consequences, and my feelings, and all that drivel... to last a lifetime."

"I can assure you I've had more."

"You've got more lifetimes in which you can just be silly, to make up for it. I don't."

Edward laid down next to me on the grass.

"I don't think I'll ever have an entire... 'lifetime' in which I just get to be silly," he said quietly.

"Why not?"

Edward sighed. "I don't have much to be silly over." He paused. "And no one to be silly with."

"You have your family, though... There's seven of you."

"Yes," Edward agreed. "And we have extended family as well. We consider them like cousins. But..." I could feel his shrug, and realized that I hadn't noticed until then our shoulders were touching. "There are times when they sort of need to be... without me."

"What's that mean?"

"I mean..."

Edward laughed, then, and it seemed out of place in contrast to the tone in which he continued speaking. "I haven't met the woman of my dreams and gotten married like the rest of them. They think it bothers me... Well, it does sometimes. But I'm content enough. I hate being around for things like Valentine's Day and Christmas. They get all sentimental and then each proceed to feel guilty because I'm alone." Edward hesitated again. "But I'm not. I do have my family, and it's... enough for me. But I can't stick around when it makes them feel bad. So I spend a lot of time away from home."

"That's terrible," I protested. "They make you leave?"

I heard Edward turn his head, so I did the same. We stared at each other for a moment.

"It's no different from your mother, making you come to Forks so she could be with Phil," he said to me.

"It is different! I came to Forks by my own choice. I wanted Renee happy with Phil."

"I leave of my own choice, too. And I always come back. It's just... Well. It's rather difficult to be happy for those brief periods every year. So I don't." Edward looked back to the sky. "Have a lifetime for silliness, that is."

"Have–" I wasn't sure what I wanted to ask. "Has it been that way... for all eighty seven years of your... vampire life?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... you've always been... lonely?"

"Not always," Edward said.

"But... you said Esme joined the family soon after you did."

"Yes, that's true. Esme and Carlisle were very happy together. It did make me... bitter, I suppose. I left the family for awhile. But when I came back they welcomed me with open arms." Edward smiled, and I realized suddenly that I was staring. I looked up into the blue sky overhead.

"What did you to, when you left?"

"Hm. I... I wandered. I did things that I regret." Edward's voice had dropped to a whisper. "When I came back, it was still just Carlisle, Esme, and I. Carlisle changed Rosalie soon after. He intended for her to... to fill the hole in me, I suppose."

"Rosalie was supposed to be your... Uh." Did vampires use terms like girlfriend?

"Mate?" Edward asked. "Yes. But I never felt more for her than brotherly feelings."

"Is that possible?" I teased. "To _not_ be completely turned on by Rosalie? Perhaps you're insane or something."

Edward laughed heartily, and I was glad he understood that I hadn't been serious.

"She did resent me, for not recognizing her beauty," he finally said. Then he added more quietly, "And for being the reason Carlisle brought her into this life. She still... she still hates me for that, a little."

My hand twitched toward him before I pulled it back.

"You can't possibly blame yourself because Rosalie is unhappy."

"I know that. I keep hoping that some day she'll just be happy. After all, she has Emmett now. He joined our family just a few years after she did. They're very happy together, but Rosalie still wishes her life had ended then."

His comment on their relationship reminded me of what we'd been talking about.

"And Alice and Jasper?"

"They were already together when they joined us." He shrugged a second time. "It doesn't matter. I love my family. I don't ever expect to be really happy, so I'm fine with contentment."

"You shouldn't consign yourself to being alone...Take out an ad in the wanted section," I joked weakly.

Edward chuckled. "_Single vampire seeking same?_"

"Hey, if it works, it works... Well, I confess I'm not nearly as fun as a smoking hot vampire girlfriend might be, but surely even _my_ company is better than being alone?"

Edward laughed. "It is, actually."

"I'm glad."

"Don't be," he said sharply, demeanor completely changed in an instant. "It's not _only_ your company I crave. Don't ever forget that. Don't forget that I'm more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else."

"I... I don't understand."

Edward sat up, cradling his head in his hands. Weakly, he said, "I guess it's time for me to tell the truth."

"You haven't been already?"

Edward looked down at me, his eyes pleading with me for patience.

"I have been... but there's more."

I sat up, too, refusing to break our locked gazes.

"Alright then. What do I need to know?"


	12. Chapter 12

12.

Edward had been staring intently into my face for what seemed like a long time.

"I don't want to frighten you," he said.

"How many times are we going to have to go over this?" I mumbled. "You aren't frightening me with this stuff, Edward." I paused and then added in a whisper, staring steadfastly into my lap, "Only one thing frightens me, and I know I'm not in danger of that with you."

A moment passed as he assembled his thoughts, and I sensed that he was struggling on deciding whether or not he should comment on that.

"You know how everyone enjoys different flavors?" he finally began, choosing to ignore my last comment. "Some people love chocolate ice cream, others prefer strawberry?"

I nodded.

"Sorry about the food analogy — I couldn't think of another way to explain."

I smiled. He smiled ruefully back.

"You see, every person smells different, has a different essence. If you locked an alcoholic in a room full of stale beer, he'd gladly drink it. But he could resist, if he wished to, if he were a recovering alcoholic. Now let's say you placed in that room a glass of hundred-year-old brandy, the rarest, finest cognac — and filled the room with its warm aroma — how do you think he would fare then?"

We sat silently, looking into each other's eyes — trying to read each other's thoughts.

He broke the silence first.

"Maybe that's not the right comparison. Maybe it would be too easy to turn down the brandy. Perhaps I should have made our alcoholic a heroin addict instead."

I laughed hollowly. "I'm your brand of drug, is what you're saying."

"Yes. You're _exactly_ my brand of drug. Your scent is... almost impossible to resist. I struggle... so much with my desire for your blood, weighed against the knowledge that taking it would do no good."

I understood what he was saying better than Edward could realize.

"And now, of course," Edward added with an obnoxious grin. "On top of it being morally reprehensible, I would no longer have your fantastic company."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"So... does that– finding one human who's scent is so special– happen often?"

Edward looked out across the treetops, perhaps thinking about his answer, or maybe only admiring their beauty.

"I spoke to my brothers about it." He still stared into the distance. "To Jasper, every one of you is much the same. He's the most recent to join our family. It's a struggle for him to abstain at all. He hasn't had time to grow sensitive to the differences in smell, in flavor."

He glanced swiftly at me, his expression apologetic.

"Sorry," he said.

I waved my hand in dismissal, nodding at him to go on.

"So Jasper wasn't sure if he'd ever come across someone who was as" — he hesitated, looking for the right word — "_appealing _as you are to me. Which makes me think not.

"And for you?"

"Never."

The word hung there for a moment in the warm breeze.

"Emmett has been on the wagon longer, so to speak, and he understood what I meant. He says twice, for him, once stronger than the other."

"What did Emmett do?" I asked to break the silence.

It was the wrong question to ask. His face grew dark, his hand clenched into a fist. He looked away. I waited, but he wasn't going to answer.

"I guess I know," I finally said. "But... that wasn't you. So far, I seem more safe with you than I do without you."

"You _aren_'_t_ more safe with me," Edward said in a voice that was practically a growl.

I grimaced and then said haltingly, pausing after every word. "You don't realize how grateful I am about you helping me last night. I think..." I paused, licking my lips once, unsure if I wanted to confess so much to someone who was, for all intents and purposes, practically a stranger. Could I even call Edward a friend? "If you hadn't been there, and they had been successful, I wouldn't be alive today."

"They weren't going to kill you," Edward said in a whisper.

"I know that. But I would have."

Edward's facial expression became more fierce, more horrified than I had ever seen it before.

"_Do not_ say that. Don't ever, ever imply..."

I held out my hand, resting it in the air just inches before his chest.

He stopped talking and let his mouth snap shut

"There are some things you can't live through twice," I said quietly, and then added with a forced smile, "But it doesn't matter. Because you _were_ there."

For some reason I couldn't bear to look into his face when his expression was so raw with what looked to me like pity. I turned away, hoping that it would effectively close the conversation.

Edward sighed loudly. "We should go."

"Hm?"

"The clouds are coming back. We'll be out in the rain if we wait much longer."

We stood, and Edward reached out to touch my elbow, grabbing my attention though I had began to trudge my way back to the trees. In his eyes I saw a flare of excitement.

"Can I show you something?"

"Wasn't that the point of coming here?"

"Something else... The way _I_ travel in the forest." At my expression he insisted, "Don't worry, you'll be safe; and we'll get to the car much faster."

"I suppose asking if you'll turn into a bat will only get me laughed at."

Edward grinned crookedly. "As if I haven't heard that one before." He paused. "I would have to carry you."

"Uhh... how?"

"Hmm... On my back? I promise it'll be smooth travel."

I was a bit wary, but nodded my assent. I grabbed hold of his shoulders and said, "You hurt my balls and I kill you. Somehow. How do you kill a vampire?"

"Burn them," Edward answered jauntily. "After you've torn them into tiny pieces. Good luck with that."

I gripped his waist with my legs, ignoring the awkwardness of the position and hoping that Edward's form of travel was worth it.

"Ready?" he asked.

Without waiting for an answer, he took off at a run.

If I'd ever feared death before in his presence, it was nothing compared to how I felt now.

He streaked through the dark, thick underbrush of the forest like a bullet, like a ghost. There was no sound, no evidence that his feet touched the earth. His breathing never changed, never indicated any effort. But the trees flew by at deadly speeds, always missing us by inches.

I was too terrified to close my eyes, though the cool forest air whipped against my face and burned them. I felt as if I were stupidly sticking my head out the window of an airplane in flight. And, for the first time in my life, I felt the dizzy faintness of motion sickness.

Then it was over. We'd hiked hours this morning to reach Edward's meadow, and now, in a matter of minutes, we were back.

Edward dropped me quickly and I stumbled, vision reeling.

"Umm... I think I need to lie down."

Edward chuckled. "Exhilarating, isn't it?"

"Er. Sure thing."

I sat down on the springy ferns next to the car, breathing deeply.

"Maybe that wasn't such a good idea," Edward mused.

"No, I'm fine. It was very... interesting," I told him, forcing myself to stand once more.

Edward pulled out his keys and unlocked the car, and I tottered to it on legs that were only slightly unsteady.

Inside the car he turned the volume of the stereo until it was barely a background hum.

"So," I asked, before he could open up conversation of his own topic, afraid that he might try to ask questions about my past as I had been doing to him. "You said that you had 'extended family'? Are there many vampires around? Why are they like family to you? Are all vampires... like a great big animal pack?"

Edward laughed. "No, nothing of the sort. We aren't that united. We consider the Denali coven family because they're also 'vegetarians.' They're very good to us. I was staying with them, the week I didn't come to school."

The last part he added after a brief moment of hesitation.

"Why?" I asked.

"It was all I could do when you entered the classroom that day... not to kill you. I thought of so many different ways to get you alone after class, or to kill you right then. I would have murdered every human in that room if it meant getting rid of witnesses."

I swallowed, for the first time a little afraid of Edward's 'dietary' needs.

"And then, when I tried to rearrange my schedule in an attempt to avoid you, you were there. There was only one other human in the room, so easily dealt with... I knew that I couldn't stay. I waited in my car where the air was clear, where I could think straight and make the right decision. After I dropped my siblings off at home, I went to the hospital where I traded cars with Carlisle.

"I didn't dare go home to see Esme. She wouldn't have let me go without a scene..." Edward's lips tightened into a grimace.

"By the next morning I was in Alaska." He sounded ashamed, as if admitting a great cowardice. "I spent two days there, with our cousins… but I was homesick. I hated knowing I'd upset Esme, and the rest of them, my adopted family. In the pure air of the mountains it was hard to believe you were so irresistible. I convinced myself it was weak to run away. I'd dealt with temptation before, not of this magnitude, not even close, but I was strong. Who were you, an insignificant little boy" — he grinned suddenly — "to chase me from the place I wanted to be? So I came back…" He stared off into space.

"Eye on the road," I reminded him a little sourly.

He laughed, face no longer tense as it had been a moment before.

"Of course..." Edward focused very intensely on the road, and I suspected he wasn't nearly as concentrated as he looked. "Anyway, I took precautions, hunting more than usual. It complicated matters that I couldn't hear your thoughts. I had no way of knowing how you reacted to me. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say. I was so determined to make you forget my behaviour that first day.

"I tried to talk to you like I would any other person, hoping to decipher your thoughts. It was difficult. I found myself listening to your conversations through other's minds, I puzzled obsessively over the few things you _did_ deign to tell me." I remembered the way Edward had so quickly approached me with my step father's name.

Edward lowered his eyes, no longer focused on the road. He stared at his hands.

"Of course, then you were nearly crushed before my eyes... Later, I told myself it was because I would never have been able to stop myself, if your blood had been spilled in front of me like that. I would have exposed my family for sure... but I only thought of that excuse after the fact. At the time, all I could think was..." Edward trailed off.

He glanced up at the road, only very briefly, and then looked at me. I'm sure it was obvious to him how consumed I was by my curiosity. But he merely shrugged and returned his gaze to the highway ahead of us.

"I suppose I was horrified at the idea of someone so interesting dying." His tone belied a deeper truth, but I didn't press it, not wanting to interrupt his tale.

"And then when you insisted I had stopped that truck... I was appalled that I had put myself in your power. You, of all people. I had no way of knowing whether you planned to betray our secret. As if I needed another motive to kill you." Edward flinched, and then continued quickly, "I fought with Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper when they suggested that now was the time... the worst fight we've ever had. Carlisle sided with me, and Esme said to do whatever I had to in order to stay."

I noticed the omission.

"And Alice?"

Edward wrinkled up his nose. "At times, Alice was adamant that I listen to Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett. She was distraught but refused to show me... And then moments later she would change her mind and insist that killing you would tear our family apart. It was Alice's indecision that made the others agree we should wait. She knows best... sometimes." Edward's smile was indulgent, then, and I knew instinctively that he was thinking of some distant memories that I'd probably never get to hear.

Edward surfaced from his reverie and went on.

"I knew I had to distance myself from you. I avoided you as much as I possibly could, but your scent hit me, every day, just as hard as it had that first day."

Edward looked away from the road to meet my eyes once more, and they were surprisingly tender.

"And yet, for all that, I'd have fared better if I _had_ killed you that first day than if... if I messed up today, for instance."

"What do you mean?"

Edward jerked his gaze away from mine, the movement so quick it made my heart leap in surprise.

"Char... I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you. You don't know how it's tortured me... to think of what I almost did. Well... I told you already that I don't form connections easily. I haven't given anyone outside my family the briefest consideration in eighty seven years. And now..."

Edward seemed to be struggling to decide what he wanted to say. It made him look– human, I thought.

I tried to make things easier by joking, "My amazing company? You'd be lost without it, I suppose."

"Yes," he sighed after a moment, clearly grateful that I had put it into words for him.

I absorbed his story in silence for a moment. I was so curious about some of the smaller details, and about his version of the day Tyler almost hit me. But I decided that the latter was something that might have to wait for another time.

"So, I'm still interested in vampire culture... You said your extended family are vegetarians as well. Is that common? Do vampires with similar lifestyles often form such large... families?"

"No," Edward told me. "My 'family' is one of the largest covens I know of, in fact. At this point I believe we're the second largest after the Volturri."

"The Volturri?"

"Hmm... Vampire law enforcement. They uphold their rules with a rather large contingent of guards, making sure our kind aren't exposed."

"Like a Harry Potter statute of secrecy type thing?" I asked before I could reign in the dork that Glen had spread to me after so many years of hanging out together.

Edward laughed. "Sure. Seven is a large number, anyway, and we only live together so well _because_ of our alternative diet. Other vampires are nomadic, often traveling in groups no larger than three. They tend to be territorial about hunting grounds, since humans are more complicated game than things like bears."

Edward looked at the clock. "It's later than I realized," he said. "I guess the walk this morning _did _take quite awhile. You must be hungry. I'm sorry. It's been so long since I spent time with someone who eats, I forget."

I shook my head. "I'm fine. If I were hungry I would have had nothing against telling you."

"Hmm... Do you mind if I come in?" he asked as he pulled into the driveway.

"Not at all," I told him, ejecting the CD in the player and putting it back in its case. As I carried the stack of cases in, I saw that Edward had already gotten the door open.

"It was unlocked?" I asked, trying to remember if I had forgotten to lock it this morning. _Ooops_, Charlie probably wouldn't appreciate that.

"No, I used the key under the pot."

I froze just inside the door. I was certain I hadn't ever used that in front of him. Last night the door was definitely unlocked when he brought me back from Port Angeles.

"You _spied_ on me?" I demanded angrily, both fear and rage constricting my chest at the same time. The idea of someone being so interested in what I did with my time was horrifying, and far too familiar.

"Just once," Edward said, looking a little abashed. He hunched his shoulders and kept his head down, eyes focused on his feet.

"When?"

"When I first slipped up, and was worried about you telling someone what you'd seen."

"And?"

"And what?" Edward looked up, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

"How _long_ did you spy on me?" I asked, my heart pounding.

"Oh, just for the one night. Don't be mad." His voice was pleading, and I forced myself to calm down, telling myself that at the time he'd been acting out of fear for his family.

"It's fine. You had reason to, I guess."

I wandered into the kitchen and heated up some lasagna that we'd had earlier in the week. Edward immediately gravitated toward the stereo, this time going with a different CD than the two he'd already heard. The piece that came on was a lively piano piece, something I thought could only be described as a _boogie_. The Canadian jazz artist, probably, I thought.

I noticed with some amusement that Edward's eyes lit up as the song proceeded, eventually with a man's voice added to the piano track. Maybe his subdued foot-tapping and head-nodding wasn't as embarrassing as my enthusiastic dance had been that morning, but he still looked a little bashful when he noted that I was struggling not to laugh at him.

"So," Edward said, "Do you often listen to jazz?"

He sat down across from me, and though he was acutely studying the CD case I knew that he was also fully focused on me at the same time.

"Uhm, sometimes. I'm not really familiar with this artist, to be honest. He's a friend's favourite, so I'm listening to him per request."

"What's your favourite song? If you had to pick just one?"

Edward was intense about the question, I could tell.

"You're _really_ into music, aren't you?"

He smiled crookedly. "I suppose it's my thing."

"Hmm. Well..." I thought a bit, having a hard time choosing one song only. In the end I settled on two and explained that I simply couldn't choose between them.

"I've never heard of either of those artists," Edward mused after I told him my favourite songs.

"Um, one of them's sort of an up-and-coming band. I suspect they'll be relatively well-known in a few years. The other _is_... well, underground isn't the right world. Just plain old not very popular."

"I listen to my share of underground music," Edward confessed. "I probably would have heard of them if they were popular in that scene."

"Hmm. I'm not sure why, to be honest. I think they're fantastic. They're sort of well-known. They've certainly got a following."

"Genre?"

"Oh, they're sort of... Uh. Progressive rock, I suppose. They're a little hard to peg."

"I'm more into indie... maybe that's why I haven't heard of them."

I never had a chance to reply because Edward tensed up, just as the headlights of Charlie's cruiser swung into the driveway.

"Oh... I didn't even notice he was on his way back."

"Well it's too late now. He's already seen your car, obviously."

Edward looked concerned. "Will you be in trouble?"

I scoffed. "No. I mean... You're the respected doctor's kid. You haven't a reputation for partying hard, do you?"

Edward chuckled. "No, I don't."

I cleared my things away and after a brief moment of hesitation heated some dinner up for Charlie. As I told Edward, I was certain I wouldn't be in _trouble..._ but that didn't mean Charlie would be thrilled I had someone over without his permission.

"Char?" he called as he came in the front door.

"In the kitchen."

He wandered in, eyes lighting on Edward.

"Dad, this is Edward Cullen."

Edward held out his hand and Charlie shook it, smiling warmly. "Carlisle's son. Of course. Nice to meet you."

"And you, too, Chief Swan."

"Hungry?" I asked, sliding the food across the table.

"Yes, actually. Thanks, kid."

"No problem."

There was a very short moment of awkward silence before I said, "Right, uh... I need to get all this back upstairs."

I gestured to the stereo.

Edward offered to help and soon I was straggling my way upstairs while Edward balance both speakers with no effort.

I had very few possessions I cared about, and I had sent my stereo to Forks ahead of me through a carefully chosen postal service, so I could be certain it was handled properly.

"I should leave," Edward observed once my things were back in place.

I wanted to argue, but stopped myself. I didn't think much could come of begging him to stay other than myself looking silly, and maybe a little pathetic.

"Goodnight, Edward," I whispered as he walked through the doorway.

He reentered after very few seconds, poking his head in the doorway. I noted a chain that slipped out of his shirt, since he was partially bent sideways to stick his head in the door. It looked like a rosary, but it was a little rude to ask about such things. I raised an eyebrow.

"Whether you want to or not, I hope you realize you'll be seeing me tomorrow."

I laughed, suddenly aware that I was exhausted though it wasn't much later than six o'clock. "Get out of my house, Edward."

By my smile I'm sure Edward could tell I meant that in the nicest way possible. He grinned crookedly and left once more, not coming back this time.

I waited for awhile, puttering around my room and hooking my stereo back up, before I let myself yawn.

My daily naps after school hadn't allowed much time for my body to adjust to a full day. Even quickly ducking under the hot, pounding spray of the shower did nothing to wake me up a little. It was a matter of minutes that I fell asleep again. The difference was that this time, there were nightmares.


	13. Chapter 13

13.

"So," Charlie said the next morning as he was getting ready to head out fishing. "Edward Cullen?"

I sighed. "He's Dr. Cullen's son, Dad. There's your guarantee."

"I know, I know," Charlie grumbled. "I just don't want... you know the whole point of being in Forks is so that you're safe."

"Yeah," I replied shortly. _Don't worry, Charlie. He's a vampire and the only thing he craves is my blood. It's totally safe._ I nearly laughed out loud because it was actually true. "Edward's got a perfect 4.0 and I'm sure he's never been anything but 100% law-abiding." Except he speeds a little. "And I think he's Catholic, so, no living in sin for him," I snapped.

This time Charlie sighed. "I'm not asking for a run-down or police record, Char. I trust you to make the right decisions, on your own... as long as you don't wind up–"

"I won't. I haven't so far, have I?"

"No," Charlie agreed. "You haven't. There is that."

He eyed me for a moment, and then left without another word.

I spent the morning upstairs, doing homework in sporadic little bursts and mostly pretending that I wasn't waiting for Edward to show up. When he finally did I didn't realize he was there until he was standing just inside my bedroom door.

Edward came inside and sat across from me on the bed, although I noticed that his eyes immediately tracked to the CD case next to my stereo.

"This is the band you were mentioning yesterday," he noted.

"You looked them up?"

"Well, I don't sleep as you know. It means I've got all night to be doing things like that."

"I guess so... I have another question for you."

"More? What else is there to know?"

"It's about..." I plucked at a loose string on my comforter, remembering the nightmares I'd had last night. "Your family, I guess."

"Yes?"

"Rosalie and your brothers."

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Edward stiffened as I spoke.

"Do they still...? I just–"

"You aren't in any danger," Edward said in a voice that was almost ferocious. "I would never let anyone hurt you."

I hummed quietly.

Edward sighed.

"They don't_ like_ hurting people. Rosalie is bitter in general, and Emmett would do anything to keep her safe. Jasper is the same; he just wanted to protect Alice. Protecting Alice and hurting others are two separate things, though; he knows that. At the time it was frightening for him to think her well-being was threatened."

I frowned. "You didn't say that they'd changed their minds."

Edward shrugged. "They... they have, I think. Rosalie and Jasper, anyway." Edward's lips twisted downward. "I'm surprised, actually. I suspected them to be the hardest to win over. Emmett's usually much more laid back. But he's skeptical because Alice changes her mind often about whether things will be alright."

"And Rosalie and Jasper?"

"Hmm, I think they changed their minds the day you switched into their class."

I swallowed. "Not too long ago."

I remembered sitting next to them in that classroom, feeling like they both wanted to kill me. I had been right. I also recalled the next day, when they'd been so drastically different.

"After school that day... was the first time I heard Rosalie think of you without hatred," Edward said. "She was distressed by the way you reacted to the movie," he added in a whisper.

"Jasper?"

"He doesn't like to see anyone upset. It... it bothers him."

I sighed. "So they definitely noticed then. I hope I wasn't–" I couldn't finish because I couldn't be sure of what I hoped.

"We're very observant," Edward reminded me kindly. "If your heart beats faster... we'll hear it. It might not have been obvious at all. There are things we can pick up on–" Edward cut himself off in the middle of the sentence. With a leer he leaned closer and whispered, "I can smell your fear."

I thought he was telling the truth, but the way he said it only served to make me laugh loudly, clutching my sides.

Finally I caught my breath and gazed at him, glad to see the playfulness on his face. It was a different look for him. After a moment his face became somber again and I wondered what he was thinking. It must be nice not to have to wonder.

"Hmm.. Edward, why can you read minds?" I asked. "Why only you?"

"We don't really know. Carlisle has a theory… he believes that we all bring something of our strongest human traits with us into the next life, where they are intensified — like our minds, and our senses. He thinks that I must have already been very sensitive to the thoughts of those around me. And that Alice had some precognition, wherever she was."

"Huh? What does Alice do now?"

"She knows things."

Edward rolled his eyes at my unimpressed expression.

"Alright, so she sees the future."

I felt my jaw drop open– may even have heard it. "Are you serious? She sees... can she see anything? Can she just choose to glance ahead? Can she pick what she sees?"

My questions tumbled out in a rush and Edward held up his hands to stop me.

"She can't choose to see things, but she can keep an eye out for events of a certain nature. It's easier if she's close to the person the event involves, like it's easier for me to hear minds I know. Her visions aren't set in stone, either. The future changes all the time depending on people's decisions and moods. Really she can only see the path we're on at a given time."

I considered that. "Her visions about me... they change a lot?"

"Yes."

"To what?" I asked, curiosity raging inside me.

"Hmm. Disaster... and non-disaster."

I glared at Edward, but sensed that he wasn't going to expand upon it.

"So you've all got gifts?" I asked, switching onto our former topic.

"No, only Alice, Jasper and I do. Jasper can sense and alter emotions," he explained.

"That sounds handy..." I began, drifting off as I remembered my first day in the media studies classroom. I felt strangely disappointed. "Oh... and here I thought I hadn't broken down that day because of my own strength of will."

Edward's fingertips pressed gently into the back of my hand for a moment.

"No one can help their feelings. Even Jasper can't control his own emotions. You can only control how you react to them."

I smiled softly. "I suppose you're right."

"Your curiosity astounds me," Edward said completely randomly.

"Um, what?"

"It's just that you keep saying 'one more question.'" He grinned crookedly.

"There are so many things to ask, though. I mean, you are a vampire, Edward. Forgive me for being so intrigued."

"What do you want to know now?"

I thought. "Umm, nothing to be honest. I think I've asked everything that I wanted to know. For now, at least... About vampires, anyway. I have questions about you, though."

Edward quirked an eyebrow, gazing around my room, this time studying one of the boxes sitting open on my floor, still unpacked.

"Well," I continued. "You mentioned that you left your family for awhile when Esme was first changed. Where did you go? What did you do? ...Edward?"

His eyes had grown wide as he stared at my box of unpacked books. "Hold that thought, Char, it's my turn to ask questions."

Edward stood and crossed the room quickly, bending down to grab a few of the books. He flipped them open curiously and looked even more astonished and confused as he did so.

"Edward?"

He came back toward me and I saw that he had _Insila kaShaka _and_ Nje nempela_ in his hands.

"What language is this?" he asked me.

"It's Zulu."

He blinked at me owlishly. "You read it?"

"And speak it, yeah."

Edward studied the books, laying them down gently on the bed. He sat beside them on the edge.

"You must be... much more intelligent than your school performance suggests." He ran his hands over the spine of one of them. "That's... amazing."

I scoffed. "But... it's not, Edward. I had to work damn hard to learn that language. There are plenty of people who learn a second language. It's no big deal."

"A _second_ language," Edward murmured. "How many languages _do _you speak?"

"Just... three, kind of. I mean, English, Zulu... _seulement un peu de français_," I told him with a tiny smile, knowing that I'd probably never be able to manage a _full_ sentence in the last one. Edward stiffened, his face going blank and unreadable. I glanced at him curiously before adding, "...And Spanish, if you count being able to say 'hi,' 'goodbye,' 'it's not a cat, it's a television' and 'your mother wears army boots' as _speaking_ the language."

"I won't ask about that last assortment of sayings," Edward murmured in forced nonchalance, looking away from me and sitting as still as a statue. "When did you learn all these languages?"

"All these... is two, Edward. Don't forget that. Jesus you act as if I belong in MENSA... Summer vacation."

"You spent your summer vacation learning foreign languages and you think it's strange I find you... Well, I don't know what I find you," he said, and I was surprised to find that his voice sounded frustrated, confused, and maybe... scared?

I shrugged, pretending I hadn't noticed his sudden bipolar moodswing. "It was that or sit around doing nothing. I partied like normal kids, too, it's just... We couldn't do that _all_ the time. And Glen– that's my friend from back home– was always into bright and exciting intellectual endeavors. I learned French... the summer before last, and Zulu the year before that."

Edward had brought my book-box to the bed while I answered and was pawing through them.

"_Le Petit Prince_?"

I groaned. "Like I said, my French is only decent. I haven't finished that one. It's coming slow."

I had read half of only the very first chapter. Saying I spoke French was practically a lie.

"_Ah_, so there _are_ English books in here... _Fan-Tan_? What the hell is this?"

"It's by _Marlon Brando_ and it's about _pirates_, Edward... don't knock it."

"Okay, you might speak three languages... but I'm afraid telling me you read novels about pirates by Marlon Brando knocks you back down to where you were before. Possibly even lower."

"Am I being lumped in with the special ed kids now, then?"

"Potentially."

For a moment the banter made me smile but then I felt my face fall and I shrugged, letting myself fall back so I was staring at my ceiling. "Whatever. I probably deserve to be on that peg... I'm not that smart, Edward, as is apparent by the incredibly stupid things I've done in the past."

"Like what?"

"It doesn't matter. Plus I'm failing most of my courses even after switching."

"Perhaps we should arrange for a study session."

"You just want an excuse to spend more time with my amazing self," I joked.

I saw his lip twitch in response, though I only had a view of one side of his face.

"Well... yes, but you would be getting help for your classes out of it. So it's not as if you have any right to complain."

I sat up to respond but Edward quickly stood at my movement.

"Uh, I should go."

"So soon?" I asked before I could stop myself, wrinkling my brow.

"Yes... sorry. I–" Edward cut himself off, grabbing my phone from my nightstand.

"Hey!"

He pressed a few buttons back at me before tossing it to me and saying quickly, "I'll see you tomorrow of course. Goodbye."

He rushed out the door before I could see him move or respond to his last statement, leaving me blinking in surprise at the empty space where he'd stood just moments before. I couldn't fathom what it was that had made him leave so quickly. His mood had abruptly changed while we were discussing languages, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why.

I shrugged the incident off, finally putting the books on the shelf where they belonged and then getting my school things. It _was_ about time I try doing some work, after all.

...Okay, so that's an outright lie. I spent the day _pretending_ to study while in reality obsessing over why Edward had ditched me so suddenly.

Finally as the day wore on and I became increasingly tired, as usual, I took a look at my phone and found that he had been entering his phone number when he grabbed it.

I paused, wondering if it was his home phone or–

I scoffed at my own thoughts. I didn't think the Cullens likely _had_ a land line.

Laying the phone gently down on my dresser I crawled into bed, though the clock indicated it was four in the afternoon. A late nap couldn't hurt anyone, I figured. _And I needed my energy_, I thought, before wondering, _For... what?_ Answering Edward's inane questions, I supposed.

* * *

French in the text:

"_Seulemen__t un peu de français": _Just a little bit of french.

"Le Petit Prince": The little prince

Zulu in the text (these are all merely book titles, not really significant at all, but for those of you who are curious...):

_Insila kaShaka: _Shaka's Body Servant

_Nje nempela: _Really and Truly


	14. Chapter 14

14.

"So, I'm standing in the middle of the street throwing up into a garbage can, when someone walks out of the store beside me," I told Tyler and Mike Monday morning, sitting in the cafeteria as we waited for the first bell to ring. "I look up and Edward Cullen is standing there staring at me with this look of... I don't know, I might call it refined disgust... which is how rich people look at you when they catch you vomiting in city garbage gans."

This is not true. I suspect if Edward had found me vomiting into a garbage can he would have gone into protective vampire overdrive. But the story is much more entertaining this way, and Mike and Tyler seem to appreciate it. I also am of the opinion that Edward would prefer to be seen as a rich snob as opposed to a psychic vampire swooping in at just the right minute.

Jessica showed up and quickly cut me off as she began chattering about how _awesome_ the dance was going to be. I didn't mind as I was sort of winging the story and wasn't sure where to head next.

Mike asked as we were leaving for classes, though.

"Must have sucked," he noted.

"Nah," I said quickly, catching sight of Edward entering our classroom up ahead and wanting nothing more than to follow. "He was actually really nice about it, after the initial shock of seeing me bent over the garbage spewing my lunch."

Mike snickered.

"It could have been worse," I continued. "Better throwing up in the garbage and having Cullen make fun of me for it than shopping with the girls for another four minutes."

"Why _did_ you agree to that anyway?" Mike asked, regarding me curiously.

"I was promised a free meal."

"And instead you ended up _minus_ a meal." He grinned and we parted ways. I could still hear him laughing to himself halfway down the hall.

Edward insisted on passing the morning asking me a series of uninterrupted, probing questions. I struggled to explain to him just what it was I loved about the dry, arid plains of Arizona.I tried to describe impossible things like the scent of creosote — bitter, slightly resinous, but still pleasant — the high, keening sound of the cicadas in July, the feathery barrenness of the trees, the very size of the sky, extending white-blue from horizon to horizon, barely interrupted by the low mountains covered with purple volcanic rock. The real difficulty lie in justifying a beauty that depended on the exposed shape of the land rather than the vegetation that many people often thought of as nature's real source of beauty.

As we were walking to the cafeteria I managed to slip in one question of my own. It escaped my mouth as soon as it came to mind, without filter.

"What happens if you eat human food?"

Edward paused just as he was about to ask another question. I immediately felt guilty, casting my gaze about us. But we had stopped at my truck for me to drop off my books and there was no one near enough to hear.

"Well, I guess I can show you," Edward said at some length.

He still hadn't said anything further as we reached the cafeteria. I grabbed random food and paid quickly, not particularly caring as I wasn't impressed by anything they could cook here. Edward did the same and we took a seat at the first empty table we came to. I looked at him expectantly, and he glared for a moment before lifting a slice of pizza of his tray and deliberately taking a large bite. He grimaced, shaking his head as he swallowed.

"Hmm, by your facial expression, I can tell that pizza is what you most miss about human life," I joked.

"I never had pizza," Edward told me simply, smiling a little at my attempt at humour.

"_You've never had pizza!_" I nearly shouted at him, horrified and appalled at the life he had missed out on. "Your childhood was _deprived_!"

People at the nearby tables were looking at us curiously.

"Well, I've had it now," Edward answered, loud enough that I'm sure they all heard. "...I don't like it much."

He set the pizza down and pushed it away from him with a wrinkled face.

"I thought Chicago was full of Italian foods," I pointed out, this time keeping my voice quiet.

"Yes."

Edward's answer was infuriatingly concise.

"_Well_, how can you never have had pizza?"

Edward shrugged, looking a little disgusted. "We ate things like pastas and rice, but certainly not tomato pie."

I stared.

"It was what poor folk ate," he continued quietly. "Five cents a slice when it first came to Chicago a few years before I was born."

"Of course," I finally said, hoping my voice sounded warmer than it felt. I supposed he'd been raised that way, but the distinction of pizza being for 'poor folk' was a little off putting.

"Well, the poor folk of Chicago were lucky," I forced myself to say with a smile when I saw he was regarding me with concern. "Good pizza is damn expensive now."

Edward chuckled, but the sound was flat. "Funny how that works out."

After a moment of silence, I got the impression that Edward was annoyed with me.

"I'm not sorry for making you eat it. You could have just told me it was possible but gross, you know."

Edward glared.

"I'm just saying," I continued blithely, "Don't blame me because you had to do things the dramatic way."

Edward's scowl was pronounced, but it didn't seem to reach his eyes. I hoped.

"I'm leaving early," he said eventually.

"Hm? To hunt?" I asked, noting that his eyes were getting fairly dark.

"Yes, I didn't this weekend. Although I had gone just a few days before meeting you in Port Angeles." His voice was wrought with frustration. "Being around you seems to make it harder to go for a few weeks like I usually can."

"That's not my fault either," I pointed out with a shrug. "Where to?"

"Alice and I are going to Goat Rocks Wilderness, just south of Rainier."

The name sounded familiar. I pored through every conversation I'd ever had with Charlie in my head.

"Aren't there bears out there?" I finally asked.

Edward stared at me as if I was missing something very obvious.

"Bears?" I gasped, and he smirked, perhaps glad that he had the upper hand in our conversation once again. "You know, bears are not in season," I added sternly, to hide my shock.

"If you read carefully, the laws only cover hunting with weapons," he informed me.

He watched my face with enjoyment as that slowly sank in.

"Bears?" I repeated with difficulty. Bears were massive creatures. When he said he hunted animals I'd expected deer or something.

"Grizzly is Emmett's favorite." His voice was still offhand, but his eyes were scrutinizing my reaction. I rationalized to myself that this made sense. After all, Emmett Cullen was a massive creature too.

"So... what's your favourite?" I asked, realizing once again, all too suddenly, that I was sitting across the table from a vampire. Someone who had the ability to take down grizzlies with... without weapons. I fought back a shudder.

Edward raised an eyebrow at my question and the corners of his mouth turned down in disapproval.

"Mountain lion."

"Ah," I said in a politely disinterested tone, grabbing blindly for my soda.

"Of course," he said, and his tone mirrored mine, "we have to be careful not to impact the environment with injudicious hunting. We try to focus on areas with an overpopulation of predators — ranging as far away as we need. There's always plenty of deer and elk here, and they'll do, but where's the fun in that?" He smiled teasingly.

"Where indeed," I murmured around a bite of pizza.

"Early spring is Emmett's favorite bear season — they're just coming out of hibernation, so they're more irritable." He smiled at some remembered joke.

"Nothing more fun than an irritated grizzly bear," I agreed, nodding.

Edward looked anxious at my response, perhaps wishing my reaction was greater. I looked away from him to where Emmett was sitting on the other side of the cafeteria, grateful that he wasn't looking in our direction. Irritated grizzly bears. Dear God. The thick bands of muscle that wrapped his arms and torso were somehow even more menacing now.

"Tell me what you're really thinking, please." Edward's voice cut into my thoughts.

"Um."

Edward turned to follow my gaze and chuckled.

"He's very nice."

"You've already told me he's the last member of your family still voting for my immediate death," I said in as dismissive a voice I could manage. Edward winced and began to protest, but I shrugged and continued over his words. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure if it were something to worry about I would already know."

Edward looked doubtful but sighed in acquiescence.

This time when I glanced toward the Cullens' table, Emmett was staring at me, his gaze feeling heavy. I should have been scared, probably, but I could only feel angry. I hadn't done a damn thing to their family. In every interaction I had shared with Edward,_ he _was the one who approached _me_. I felt my lip curling in disgust and in return the massive man staring at me raised one perfect eyebrow. If Emmett wanted someone to blame he should have been ripping his brother to shreds, not me.

As soon as that thought crossed my mind I was inundated with guilt. I looked back to Edward, thinking how terrible I would feel if anything ever happened to Edward because he wanted to befriend me. I smiled weakly.

"Well, have fun hunting." A quick glance at the clock showed that lunch was drawing to a close. "I'll see you tomorrow, perhaps."

I rose from my seat as steadily as I could and left without a glance backward.

Edward wasn't in Biology, so he must have left already with Alice. As I was fiddling with my keys at the end of the day, trying to get my truck unlocked, a great shadow passed over my vision.

I looked up.

"Hello, Emmett."

Emmett Cullen grinned fiercely.

"Hi... Listen, the last thing my family needs is a human who can't keep their mouth shut hanging about."

"I've kept my mouth shut so far," I answered as calmly as I could. We were in a crowded parking lot, so I doubted I had anything to worry about. After all, that was Emmett's big thing, wasn't it? The secret. "Besides," I continued in a murmur, "You must know that the only thing that would come of me telling is that I would end up in a mental hospital. I've no desire for that, so you've no need to worry."

"I'm not quite as willing as Edward to take chances. You're very brave for a human, foolishly so. You can't win."

I had to scoff at that. "I'm not stupid, Emmett. I know that you could snap me in half if you wanted. Can't take on a grizzly, definitely couldn't take on Emmett Cullen." I didn't have strength or agility, but I did have something I knew would strike Emmett, or any of the Cullens. "I'm nothing but a weak, defenseless human. I'm sure killing me would be easy as pie for you... And all you'd need afterward was to clean up the mess, right?"

Emmett frowned. Because we both knew it wasn't true. Emmett's diet regimen attested to that.

"Are you guilt tripping me?" he finally asked incredulously.

"No, just saying it how it is."

I got inside my truck and started the engine, slamming the door with finality. Emmett stepped back, his gaze dark but calculating. My truck rumbled past him. I stared blankly ahead, mind focused on the road, until I reached my house.

In Charlie's driveway I finally felt the briefest bout of fear grip my heart, but it passed quickly. Emmett Cullen could kill me. I didn't think he would, but even if he did... I had no fear of death. I wasn't sure I believed in life beyond the grave. After all, how could you judge someone for all of eternity? I wouldn't call myself a bad person, but I'd undoubtedly 'sinned.' I couldn't believe in a God that didn't see the gray shades between.

I expected death to be like sleep. I would never miss my family or friends, because I would never know I'd died.

It occurred to me that things were different now. My parents were resilient, and my friends, too. They would move on. I thought of Edward returning to his bleary existence of loneliness and shuddered. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so blase with Emmett. I'd feel guilty over Edward's sadness if his brother did decide to murder me.

That slight feeling of fear clung to me as I went through the motions of doing homework and preparing dinner. It was like a ghost– I could nearly forget it, but the air was maybe just a little bit colder, the hairs on my neck just a little stiffer, than usual.

I was glad of Charlie's presence, later. He wasn't chatty, but having another human in the room made things warmer. Looking out into the darkness, I could barely discern the shadows of the trees from the hulking shape I imagined lurking between them. I remembered Edward's words from a few days before, and felt my mouth turning up slightly.

When Edward said he wasn't the most dangerous thing in the forest, I was fairly certain I didn't need to worry that he'd meant his siblings_ were._


	15. Chapter 15

15.

Edward wasn't in school the next morning. I spent the first part of my day doing nothing but sitting with my shoulders slumped in defeat and feeling Emmett Cullen's gaze on me like a curse. It felt like every time I looked up at lunch, Emmett was staring at me from across the room, with one of his arms thrown casually, yet protectively, around Rosalie. I didn't understand how he could possibly see me as a threat to his family's safety, and each time our gazes met my heart grew a little bit heavier. I would only get laughed at if I told anyone I thought the Cullens were vampires, and even if I did, I doubted they could be hunted down and killed by mere humans as in legends.

I wished Edward was there, convinced that maybe his presence would make a completely terrible day just a little bit brighter. It was one of those days that had been so common when I first came to Forks, but were fewer and father between as time passed: when I woke up in the morning, still shaking from my nightmares, I'd wondered if there was even a single reason to get out of bed, not entirely sure I had the strength to face the day. As I passed the time with Emmett Cullen's shadow looming over my mind and the feeling of utter defeat and indifference that was always there when I thought of the last year of my life, I was overwhelmed by the though that it wasn't good to be here. On earth, I mean. Being alive was a chore that I wasn't quite sure I could muscle through.

By the end of lunch hour, I had resigned myself to missing the last part of the school day.

I lie on my side in bed, watching the rain run down my window. I stayed there for hours, half asleep and only vaguely aware of the room around me. I didn't realize Charlie was in the room until he nudged my shoulder.

"Char?"

"Hm?"

Charlie said nothing. I could picture him standing behind me, eyebrows furrowed in thought, probably wonder what the best course of action was.

Without glancing away from the rain-patterned window, I sighed.

"I'm fine, Dad. I just... I'm tired."

"Tired," Charlie repeated, and I could hear the disbelief in his voice. When I didn't respond, he left the room and returned a while later with food. He left it sitting on my bedside table, but the smell of pizza wasn't nearly enough to pull me from my position.

Night fell, and I watched the sky grow dark.

I felt a sag in the mattress and assumed Charlie had settled down next to me.

"Char?"

The voice was not Charlie's.

I sat up, feeling my bones creaking. When I turned my head, Edward was staring at me with wide, golden eyes, that somehow were not nearly as frightening as they were comforting.

"Hi. How did you get in here?"

Edward tilted his head a bit, studying.

"The back door. Charlie's watching television... Emmett said you were in school this morning, but I was back in time for Biology. You weren't there."

"So?"

"Nothing, I just thought I'd– check up on you, I guess."

I couldn't fight back the little smile I felt, suddenly aware of the warmth that came from having someone look out for you. I picked at a thread on my comforter, staring at my hands.

"Thanks. I suppose I'm glad you're here," I joked weakly.

"It's good to be here."

I laughed aloud at that, struck by the way he echoed my thoughts from earlier.

"What?"

"Nothing really, it's just that I was thinking the exact opposite today, that it's not so good to be here."

Edward was quiet for a moment before he asked, "In Forks?"

"No," I answered in a whisper. "But it doesn't matter... tell me about your past."

I had spent the entire day trying not to think about mine, I reasoned. It might be nice to get lost in his for a little while.

When I looked up to meet his gaze, Edward seemed thoughtful and perhaps confused, but at last he shrugged.

"What of it?"

"Well, the other day I asked about where you went, when Esme was changed. You got distracted, if I recall."

Edward's smile was bitter. "Ah, that."

"Why did you leave?"

Edward shrugged, as if it were no big deal, though his hesitance in answering belied the truth. "

"Well, I had a typical bout of rebellious adolescence — about ten years after I was… born… created, whatever you want to call it. I wasn't sold on Carlisle's life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite."

"Um, what do you mean?"

"Carlisle... is an amazing man," Edward ventured. "He's the one who inspires us all to be 'vegetarians.' He would never do anything to hurt another, but..."

Edward's frustration was evident on his face. He got up and paced the room.

"From the time of my new birth," he murmured, "I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human alike. That's why it took me ten years to defy Carlisle — I could read his perfect sincerity, understand exactly why he lived the way he did.

"It took me only a few years to return to Carlisle and recommit to his vision. I thought I would be exempt from the… depression… that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl — if I saved her, then surely I wasn't so terrible."

I fought not to shiver, imagining only too clearly what he described — the alley at night, the frightened girl, the dark man behind her. And Edward, Edward as he hunted, terrible and glorious as a young god, unstoppable. Would she have been grateful, that girl, or more frightened than before?

"But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And I went back to Carlisle and Esme. They welcomed me back like the prodigal. It was more than I deserved."

We sat beneath the heavy oppression of darkness and the beating rain, neither speaking for a long time as I thought and Edward watched me intently.

"You only killed... murderers?"

"Murderers, rapists, drug dealers... Monsters."

My entire world felt as if it slowed down while Edward spoke. It was like gravity increased its hold on me, forcing me to struggle just to keep up with time.

"Um... one of these things isn't like the others," I murmured weakly, unable to voice my thoughts clearly, afraid, maybe, of Edward's reaction.

Edward quirked an eyebrow. "Isn't it? I know exactly what you mean, but... at the time, what I saw were the ruined lives of the people old and young who were caught up in the dealings. Drug dealers care as little about ruining lives as rapists do. At least, the ones _I _hunted."

Of course. Edward could pick the worst out of the bunch, but still... I shrugged, forcing myself to think of something else.

"So, what happened after you went back?"

Edward frowned, eyes narrowing. "That's it?"

"Huh?"

He shook his head, lips pursed. "That's all you have to say on my... teenage rebellion stage? It doesn't repulse you?" Edward seethed.

I blinked at him, not understanding the cause for his apparent anger.

"No. Um, should I be repulsed? You gave your reasoning, and–"

"So it just doesn't _matter_?"

Slowly, I murmured, "Well of course it matters, Edward. You've just told me that you've slaughtered prolifically for human blood."

He flinched as if slapped.

"But... it's clear that you feel guilty over your past, and that you've... repented... Look, Edward, I'm not saying that I just don't care about what you've done. And I'm not saying that I don't think it's an important part of you, because it obviously affects your own vision of yourself drastically. It's more that... I forgive you the things you've done, because I know that you would change them if you could."

Edward sat next to me, and stared at me with an expression that was almost close to awe. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "That's... perhaps the exact thing I've needed someone to say." He smiled ruefully. "Admittedly it's not as impressive as a seal of forgiveness from the dead themselves, but..."

Edward trailed off and shrugged.

"Let's try a lighter subject," he suggested.

"Did you have something in mind?"

"Yes, actually... My family is– understandably– _interested_ in you. They want to meet you. None of them really have spoken to you, except Carlisle."

"Emmett has," I muttered.

"When?" Edward asked sharply.

"He didn't tell you about our little chat?"

"He said nothing of it."

"Oh. Well, it was no big deal, really. So, um. You want to introduce me to a family full of vampires."

"Well... yes. Although it sounds now like I'm going to have to have a talk with Emmett before that happens."

"No, don't worry about it. I guess I'd be okay with meeting them. I mean, if you promise I won't get eaten."

Edward nearly choked on air. "They wouldn't ever hurt you, Char, I–"

"Calm down, Edward, it was a joke."

Edward peered at me owlishly. "Oh. Is it– I mean, do you really have to joke about that?"

"Why not?"

Edward ran a hand through his hair and grinned crookedly. "I guess I don't know. It's a touchy subject to everyone except the one in danger, it seems."

"Hmm, you keep saying I'm not in danger, though."

"You aren't."

I sighed. Edward was so full of contradictions, I wondered if it was even worth it to _attempt_ discussion with him about this.

I laid down on my bed, resting my cheek against the pillow. "So, when do I get to meet the vamps?"

"This weekend?"

"Sure," I said through a yawn.

"I'll go. Get some rest. If you haven't got your health, what have you got?"

Edward said this with a smile that made me think he was quoting something, but I was asleep before he'd even left the room, so I never gave it a second thought.


	16. Chapter 16

School turned out to be the most confusing part of my friendship with Edward. For the next few days I flitted between sitting with Mike, Tyler and the others versus sitting with Edward. I didn't want to ditch the first friends I had made here in Forks, but at the same time I was inexorably drawn to Edward, completely intrigued by him.

As the weekend drew near I grew increasingly nervous. I struggled to sleep and Charlie consistently asked me what was wrong.

On Thursday night I woke in darkness, my mind processing the shape of a body lying next to me, facing the wall, and instantly my thoughts transported me to Arizona. I blinked for a moment at the blond hair, curled slightly at the ends, before groaning and rolling over to face the other wall, mumbling under my breath.

"Glen, what the fuck are you doing in my bed..."

I was now facing the window, and outside the rain was pounding toward the earth. I sat up with a yelp, falling half out of bed. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was not in Phoenix. I was in Forks– and when I turned my head to the side, I saw that Jasper Hale was lying in my bed, staring at me with wide eyes full of laughter.

"We just want to talk," a beautiful voice said from the other end of the room. I peered into the corner and saw Rosalie there, half obscured by darkness.

"Who's Glen?" Rose asked.

"A friend from Phoenix," I told them when I finally found my voice. "I just saw the hair and... What were you doing in my bed?"

"Trying to get some perspective," Rosalie answered for Jasper again. "On the poster. He was wondering if you had it hung there for the purpose of staring at while in bed. And judging from the angle, Jasper, you concluded...? "

Jasper shook his head, silently getting up and moving to stand beside the window. I wondered if he was mute, but then remembered that we had spoken before in class. It took me another moment to realize Rosalie was talking about the Clint Eastwood poster I had hung as a joke.

"Well... No, it isn't really there for anything, to be honest... Why would I want to stare at Clint Eastwood while lying in bed, and–" I forced myself to stop talking, and decided this was not an avenue of conversation I wanted to pursue with the vampires who'd broken into my room. "What do you two want?"

"To talk," Rosalie said again.

"Yeah, I got that. What about?"

"Emmett," she sighed. "I wanted to apologize, since none of us realized he'd approached you. I hope he didn't scare you. He still won't tell us what he said."

"Uh... No. He just said... Obligatory vampire secret shit, I guess."

"That didn't frighten you?"

I was fairly certain that nothing could frighten me more than the sight of Jasper Hale standing in the light filtering in from outside, barely visible strands of moonlight that made it through the rain and clouds. He was as still as the earth itself, so unmoving I figured he must have been holding his breath or something. I remembered Edward doing the same thing on the day we met, fighting not to breathe in my scent, and shuddered.

I glanced once more at Rosalie. "Uhm, no, it's alright. I figure the worst he can do is kill me."

Rosalie smiled bitterly. "We could do worse. We could make you one of us."

I wrinkled my brow, not quite understanding.

"A vampire's memories never fade," Rosalie whispered, stepping lightly toward me. "Which is the other thing we have to discuss. Don't get too deep into this. You don't want to be one of us. Trust me. If you so much as think about–" Rosalie shuddered, mirroring my own movements from just moments before. "It will be with you forever."

This was getting supremely weird. Almost unconsciously I scooted even closer to the edge of the bed so I could be farther from her wide, golden-eyed gaze. Imagine that, a teenage boy trying to get _away_ from Rosalie Hale in bed.

"Uhh, okay... thanks for the... advice.."

Rosalie's edged smile returned, and with a swift nod she disappeared. When I turned to the window, Jasper was gone too. I lay in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling. I know I fell asleep because I woke to the sunlight pouring into my room and no evidence that the two unearthly blonds had ever been there.

Although it meant Edward wasn't there either, I was relieved that the bright sun meant the absence of the Hales in school.

When Saturday morning rolled around, I fidgeted while I made breakfast, dropping three eggs on the floor and knocking over a glass.

_It's okay_, I told myself. _They're vegetarians._

Still, I thought of Emmett Cullen's bulging muscles and reminded myself that being eaten is not the only way to be killed. And apparently being killed is not the worst thing that could happen to me. I struggled to understand Rosalie's cryptic warning, but was left confused. Truly, what I really didn't understand was why she thought I'd ever want to be a vampire in the first place.

As I was blundering my way through the morning, a text from Glen written entirely in French managed to relieve, frustrate, and terrify– it was a distraction, but I had to force my mind into translation mode, something I never had to do for Zulu as it came naturally. But the worst part was that I knew Glen tended to mix up his languages when he was really distressed. He would carry on entire, rambling conversations in Italian before he realized it _was_ Italian and that none of us could understand what he was saying.

That was how Edward found me, sitting at my kitchen table surrounded by the destruction that was 'breakfast' and glaring at my phone. Despite the tension I felt gathering in my muscles over Glen's unreadable message, Edward's presence helped relax me a little.

"Why didn't you come to school yesterday?" I asked idly, looking up briefly as he entered the kitchen (without permission, as he had taken to doing), and then before he could answer I added, "Oh wait, I know, too busy sparkling."

I returned to staring at my phone and trying to think in "French mode." Edward let out a low growl and before I knew it I had been flipped onto my back on the floor, pinned there by one arm. The landing was gentle, since Edward seemed to be _against_ hurting me, but still– the message was obvious.

"You were saying?"

"Uh... que... tu es le plus terrifiant de tous le monstres."

Edward blinked and stepped away, giving me space to stand up. His expression was guarded.

"Wasn't that the answer you were expecting?" I grumbled.

"Well, yes, but not in French."

"Yeah, sorry about that, my head's in translation mode..." I gestured to the phone on the table. "...What's wrong with French?"

Edward shrugged, turning away from me. His posture seemed stiff, and he glanced at me over his shoulder briefly. "Nothing, I suppose. Are you ready to meet the vampires?"

I nodded, not entirely trusting my voice now that the time had come to actually do this. I thought of Rosalie's visit and reminded myself that no one seemed to share Emmett's anti-me opinion.

"Well, then, let's get going."

* * *

_"Uh... que... tu es le plus terrifiant de tous le monstres": _Uh, that... you are the most terrifying monster ever.


	17. Chapter 17

_17._

I was _not_ stalling.

"Let me just... grab my coat," I murmured.

"Sure," Edward answered shortly, still not looking at me. He was scuffing the floor with the toe of his shoe, and I wondered if he was maybe as nervous as I was.

I nodded and began the unusually long journey to my room upstairs.I stood in the doorway, scanning the room slowly, starting from the left and sweeping toward the right. Hm, look at that, my jacket was in the last place I allowed my gaze to fall on.

When I finally made it downstairs with my jacket over my arm, it was just in time to hear Edward dropping something that made a loud clinking noise into the garbage.

He looked up at me, frustration in his eyes. "You're ready now?"

"Yeah, what's up?" I asked, the expression on his face momentarily distracting me from my nervousness.

"Nothing, just cleaning your mess," Edward answered with a small grin. "Now, let's go."

We headed outside. "Uh, you didn't drive here?"

"No, I... walked."

"In the rain?"

Edward smiled at me. "It took only a minute."

I had to laugh at that. "Fair enough. I guess that means we're taking my truck, since I'm never letting myself be carried again."

Edward had to give me directions, since I still didn't know every little bit of Forks, let alone where he lived.

We passed over the bridge at the Calawah River, the road winding northward, the houses flashing past us growing farther apart, getting bigger. And then we were past the other houses altogether, driving through misty forest. I was trying to decide whether to ask or be patient, when he told me abruptly to turn onto an unpaved road. It was unmarked, barely visible among the ferns. The forest encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead only discernible for a few meters as it twisted, serpentlike, around the ancient trees.

And then, after a few miles, there was some thinning of the woods, and we were suddenly in a small meadow, or was it actually a lawn? The gloom of the forest didn't relent, though, for there were six primordial cedars that shaded an entire acre with their vast sweep of branches. The trees held their protecting shadow right up to the walls of the house that rose among them, making obsolete the deep porch that wrapped around the first story.

"Uhm, I was expecting something more... I don't know, even," I finally ventured as I parked, taking in the timeless house.

Edward laughed as we walked through the deep shade up to the porch. He opened the door for me, a smirk on his face.

The inside was even more surprising, less predictable, than the exterior. It was very bright, very open, and very large. The back, south-facing wall had been entirely replaced with glass, and, beyond the shade of the cedars, the lawn stretched bare to the wide river.

I don't know how I didn't notice them. Perhaps I was so incredibly drawn by the view out the back 'window' and the overwhelming whiteness of the room that everything else sort of slipped my notice.

In either case, I had already said, "Hm, I'm a little disappointed by the distinct lack of coffins and spider w–" before I saw them.

Waiting to greet us, standing just to the left of the door, on a raised portion of the floor by a spectacular grand piano, were Edward's parents.

"Oh, hey there," I said, covering gracefully (or not).

They both chuckled at that.

"You're very welcome," Carlisle said, taking a measured, careful step toward me. He raised his hand tentatively and I shook it.

"It's good to see you again, Dr. Cullen."

"Please call me Carlisle."

"Carlisle, then," I murmured with a shrug, fighting the impulse to ask if I could just call him Big Daddy C. I'm sure I was the only one who would find it funny. I didn't even know if any of the Cullens listened to shitty spin-off rock bands.

"It's nice to meet you," the woman standing next to him said, extending her hand. It must have been Esme, since she was the only member of the family I hadn't met.

I shook her hand, finding it just as cold as Edward's were.

"Thanks, it's nice to meet you as well," I responded, actually struggling to stop myself from saying _um_ at the beginning of my sentence. Edward's family seemed to have some secret, foolproof way of rendering me completely unable to speak intelligently.

Alice and Jasper appeared then at the top of the wide staircase.

Alice appeared in front of me in the time it took for me to blink. "Hello, Edward," she said to her brother, before reaching forward to pull me into a hug. I stiffened for a moment.

"Oh, you do smell good, I never noticed before. Hi, I'm Alice," she quipped as she stepped back.

I had to fight with my eye to not twitch. "Yeah. Uh. Hi. Nice to meet you. "

If Carlisle and Esme had looked cautious before, they now looked staggered.I guessed that Alice's visions about me lately must have been more good than bad.

She was grinning at me. "You've already met Jasper, of course."

"I have, yes." I smiled politely in Jasper's direction, and he nodded briefly. So far no one had eaten me, although I could only call this awkward. Awkward was better than dead. Of course, the fact that my life hadn't been threatened might have something do with the fact that Emmett– and Rosalie– were conspicuously absent.

Carlisle's expression distracted me from this train of thought; he was gazing meaningfully at Edward with an intense expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward nod once.

I looked away, trying to be polite. My eyes wandered again to the beautiful instrument on the platform by the door. I suddenly remembered my childhood fantasy that, should I ever win a lottery, I would buy a grand piano for my mother. She wasn't really good — she only played for herself on our secondhand upright — but I loved to watch her play. She was happy, absorbed — she seemed like a new, mysterious being to me then, someone outside the "mom" persona I took for granted. She'd put me through lessons, of course, but like most kids, I whined until she let me quit.

Esme noticed my preoccupation.

"Do you play?" she asked, inclining her head toward the piano.

I shook my head. "Not at all, not the piano anyway. But it's so beautiful. Is it yours?"

"No," she laughed. "Edward didn't tell you he was musical?"

"Oh, um, I guess it was mentioned once." Or a thousand times. But he never said he had musical talent, only that he enjoyed music. _Damn_, I realized. _I broke the vow about not saying um._

"What, Edward hasn't been showing off?" someone asked in a booming voice. I turned. It was Emmett, emerging from a side room, with Rosalie at his side.

The room fell silent for a moment, each of us looking at Emmett. Apparently I wasn't the only one surprised to see him.

"Breakfast time!" he declared loudly. Rosalie's expression didn't falter, and neither did Edward's, so I let myself feel relieved that the double meaning I was so afraid of wasn't there. I clutched my throat with both hands and stared at him with wide eyes. Shock crossed the faces of everyone but Edward– it was nice to know he'd finally gotten used to my slightly morbid sense of humor. When it came to me being eaten, at least.

I snickered. "Just kidding."

Emmett frowned in disgust and then he approached me, sniffing and holding something out to me on a plate. It looked like a piece cut from a rotting tree.

"My peace offering. Rose made me."

She smacked him.

I stared, and leaned closer to Edward before whispering, though I knew Emmett would hear anyway, "What the hell is it?"

Edward chuckled. "I think it's... breakfast?"

"For the human," Emmett confirmed. "I slaved over this to show my honourable intentions, and–"

"I've never seen breakfast food that looks like that," I murmured, studying it a little closer.

"It's not breakfast food, it's chocolate cake. But if you eat it now it will be breakfast," Emmett said with a frown, apparently displeased I had interrupted him.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly eat chocolate cake for breakfast," I said, wanting to ask what the green stuff covering it was, but sort of optimistic that it was just frosting. "So, maybe later?"

Rosalie was glaring belligerently at Emmett, and he clearly saw this. He sighed as if horribly put upon.

"I'm _so _under appreciated," Emmett lamented as he left the room with his baking and his beautiful blonde wife, who waved at me as she left.

When I turned I saw that Edward and I were left alone in the room.

"That went well," I ventured, and Edward snorted. "Better than expected, at least."

He nodded, and then shrugged, gesturing to the stairs.

"Tour?"

"Sure thing... So, what was Carlisle telling you before?"

His eyebrows pulled together. "You noticed that, did you?"

I shrugged, copying his movement from just a second ago. "Of course."

He looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds before answering. "He wanted to tell me some news — he didn't know if it was something I would share with you."

"Will you?"

Edward sighed, apparently still undecided.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, exactly. Alice just sees some visitors coming soon. They know we're here, and they're curious."

"Visitors?"

"Yes… well, they aren't like us, of course — in their hunting habits, I mean. They probably won't come into town at all, but still, the danger is very real."

"I see," I responded, because I didn't really know how to react to the news that more vampires- ones whose presence I couldn't assure myself over with their vegetarianism- would be coming. Changing the subject, I joked, "I really am a little upset about the lack of skulls piled in the corners here, you know."

Edward smiled only slightly and led me across the room.

We walked up the massive staircase, my hand trailing along the satin-smooth rail. The long hall at the top of the stairs was paneled with a honey-colored wood, the same as the floorboards.

"Rosalie and Emmett's room…Carlisle 's office…Alice 's room…" He gestured as he led me past the doors.

He would have continued, but I stopped dead at the end of the hall, staring incredulously at the ornament hanging on the wall above my head. Edward chuckled at my bewildered expression.

"You can laugh," he said. "It _is _sort of ironic."

I didn't laugh. My hand raised automatically, one finger extended as if to touch the large wooden cross, its dark patina contrasting with the lighter tone of the wall. I didn't touch it, though I was curious if the aged wood would feel as silky as it looked.

"Why would I laugh?" I murmured. "It's not the only one– I mean, you wear a rosary."

Edward shook his head, lips pursed. "No, I don't," he said, and moved the fabric of his shirt to expose more of his skin. As he said, there was nothing hanging there.

"Oh, I thought..." I must have been seeing things, before. I turned to the wooden cross again. "It must be very old," I guessed.

He shrugged. "Early sixteen-thirties, more or less."

I looked away from the cross to stare at him.

"Why do you keep this here?" I wondered.

"Nostalgia. It belonged to Carlisle 's father."

"He collected antiques?" I suggested doubtfully.

"No. He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached."

I wasn't sure if my face betrayed my shock, but I returned to gazing at the simple, ancient cross, just in case. I quickly did the mental math; the cross was over three hundred and seventy years old. The silence stretched on as I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept of so many years.

"Are you all right?" He sounded worried.

"How old is Carlisle?" I asked quietly, ignoring his question, still staring up.

"He just celebrated his three hundred and sixty-second birthday," Edward said. I looked back at him, a million questions in my eyes.

He watched me carefully as he spoke.

"Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though."

"He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him. His father was an intolerant man. As the Protestants came into power, he was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves… and vampires."

Edward went on without pausing, aware by now that the word vampire didn't affect me the way he seemed to want it to.

"They burned a lot of innocent people — of course the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch.

"When the pastor grew old, he placed his obedient son in charge of the raids. At first Carlisle was a disappointment; he was not quick to accuse, to see demons where they did not exist. But he was persistent, and more clever than his father. He actually discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.

"The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course" — his brief laugh was darker now– "and waited where Carlisle had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged."

His voice was very quiet; I strained to catch the words.

"He must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Carlisle heard him call out in Latin to the others when he caught the scent of the mob. He ran through the streets, and Carlisle — he was twenty-three and very fast — was in the lead of the pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Carlisle thinks he was too hungry, so he turned and attacked. He fell on Carlisle first, but the others were close behind, and he turned to defend himself. He killed two men, and made off with a third, leaving Carlisle bleeding in the street."

He paused. I could sense he was editing something, keeping something from me.

"Carlisle knew what his father would do. The bodies would be burned — anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Carlisle acted instinctively to save his own life. He crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and his victim. He hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting potatoes for three days. It's a miracle he was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.

"It was over then, and he realized what he had become."

"What, an immortal humanitarian? Your family's all the same," I muttered. "You put so much stock in what someone is, rather than what they do."

"Hm, back then Carlisle wasn't a humanitarian. He was a vampire-hunter-turned-vampire_._"

"Fair enough," I relented.

He smiled. "I expect you have a few more questions for me."

"A few."

His smile widened over his brilliantly white teeth. He started back down the hall, pulling me along by the elbow. "Come on, then," he encouraged. "I'll show you."


	18. Chapter 18

18.

He led me back to the room that he'd pointed out as Carlisle's office. He paused outside the door for an instant.

"Come in," Carlisle's voice invited.

Edward opened the door to a high-ceilinged room with tall, west-facing windows. The walls were paneled again, in a darker wood — where they were visible. Most of the wall space was taken up by towering bookshelves that reached high above my head and held more books than I'd ever seen outside a library.

Carlisle sat behind a huge mahogany desk in a leather chair. He was just placing a bookmark in the pages of the thick volume he held.

"Lotsa books," I noted with a low whistle. "This office is probably the closest I'll ever getting to being in a college dean's office." I frowned. "Or a college in general, come to think of it."

Edward rolled his eyes, and Carlisle looked mildly surprised before smiling warmly.

"What can I do for you?" he asked us pleasantly, rising from his seat.

"I wanted to show Char some of our history," Edward said. "Well, your history, actually."

"We didn't mean to disturb you," I apologized, still looking around.

"Not at all. Where are you going to start?"

"The Waggoner," Edward replied, placing one hand lightly on my shoulder and spinning me around to look back toward the door we'd just come through.

The wall we faced now was different from the others. Instead of bookshelves, this wall was crowded with framed pictures of all sizes, some in vibrant colors, others dull monochromes. I searched for some logic, some binding motif the collection had in common, but I found nothing in my hasty examination.

Edward nodded me toward the far left side, where we stopped in front of a small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. This one did not stand out among the bigger and brighter pieces; painted in varying tones of sepia, it depicted a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with thin spires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the foreground, crossed by a bridge covered with structures that looked like tiny cathedrals.

"London in the sixteen-fifties," Edward said.

"The London of my youth," Carlisle added, from a few feet behind us. I flinched; I hadn't heard him approach.

"Will you tell the story?" Edward asked. I twisted a little to see Carlisle's reaction.

He met my glance and smiled. "I would," he replied. "But I'm actually running a bit late. The hospital called this morning— Dr. Snow is taking a sick day. Besides, you know the stories as well as I do," he added, grinning at Edward now.

It was a strange combination to absorb — the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of his early days in seventeenth-century London. It was also unsettling to know that he spoke aloud only for my benefit.

After another warm smile for me, Carlisle left the room.

I stared at the little picture of Carlisle's hometown for a long moment.

"What happened then?" I finally asked, staring up at Edward, who was watching me. "When he realized what had happened to him?"

He glanced back to the paintings, and I looked to see which image caught his interest now. It was a larger landscape in dull fall colors — an empty, shadowed meadow in a forest, with a craggy peak in the distance.

"When he knew what he had become," Edward said quietly, "he rebelled against it. He tried to destroy himself. But that's not easily done."

"How?" I asked curiously.

"He jumped from great heights," Edward told me, his voice impassive. "He tried to drown himself in the ocean… but he was young to the new life, and very strong. It is amazing that he was able to resist… feeding… while he was still so new. The instinct is more powerful then, it takes over everything. But he was so repelled by himself that he had the strength to try to kill himself with starvation."

Edward had already told me the perils of that, and I grimaced against my will.

"So he grew very hungry, and eventually weak. He strayed as far as he could from the human populace, recognizing that his willpower was weakening, too. For months he wandered by night, seeking the loneliest places, loathing himself.

"One night, a herd of deer passed his hiding place. He was so wild with thirst that he attacked without a thought. His strength returned and he realized there was an alternative to being the vile monster he feared. Had he not eaten venison in his former life? Over the next months his new philosophy was born. He could exist without being a demon. He found himself again.

"He began to make better use of his time. He'd always been intelligent, eager to learn. Now he had unlimited time before him. He studied by night, planned by day. He swam to France and —"

"He _swam_ to France?"

"People swim the Channel all the time, Char," he reminded me patiently.

"That's true, I guess. It just sounded funny in that context. Go on."

"Swimming is easy for us—"

"Everything is easy for you," I griped.

He waited, his expression amused.

"I won't interrupt again, I promise."

He chuckled darkly, and finished his sentence. "Because, technically, we don't need to breathe."

"You —"

"No, no, you promised." He laughed, putting a hand up in a gesture for me to stop speaking. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"You can't spring something like that on me, and then expect me not to say anything," I mumbled, looking away. We stood in silence, one I refused to break. For about four seconds until I broke.

"You don't have to breathe?" I demanded.

"No, it's not necessary. Just a habit." He shrugged.

"How long can you go… without breathing?"

"Indefinitely, I suppose; I don't know. It gets a bit uncomfortable — being without a sense of smell."

"A bit uncomfortable," I echoed. Edward was looking at me as if he was about to say something equally off-putting and expect me once more to remain quiet. I frowned at him, not about to give him the opportunity. "So, go on — Carlisle was swimming to France."

He paused, getting back into his story. Reflexively, his eyes flickered to another picture — the most colorful of them all, the most ornately framed, and the largest; it was twice as wide as the door it hung next to. The canvas overflowed with bright figures in swirling robes, writhing around long pillars and off marbled balconies. It was one of those weird paintings that you knew instantly was either representing something Greek or Biblical, but had to read the title to even begin to guess what that was. Sadly, as nice as Carlisle's office was, it was no museum, so there was no placard. Consequently, I had no fucking clue what I was looking at.

"Carlisle swam to France, and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. By night he studied music, science, medicine — and found his calling, his penance, in that, in saving human lives." His expression became awed, almost reverent. I continued studying the photo as he spoke. "I can't adequately describe the struggle; it took Carlisle two centuries of torturous effort to perfect his self-control. Now he is all but immune–"

"Hey!" I interjected, pointing at a sedate quartet of figures above the rest. The golden-haired man on the far right was someone I recognized, I had realized. "Whe–" Edward was glaring at me for interrupting his story. "You were probably about to get to that, huh? Ok, I'll shut up now."

Edward continued his narrative exactly from where he'd left off, leaving me a little disoriented at first.

" –to the scent of human blood, and he is able to do the work he loves without agony. He finds a great deal of peace there, at the hospital…" Edward stared off into space for a long moment. Suddenly he seemed to recall his purpose. He tapped his finger against the huge painting in front of us. "He was studying in Italy when he discovered the others there. They were much more civilized and educated than the wraiths of the London sewers."

Aro, Marcus, Caius," he said, indicating the other three with Carlisle in the photo, two blackhaired, one snowy-white. " Nighttime patrons of the arts."

"What happened to them?" I wondered aloud, my fingertip hovering a centimeter from the figures on the canvas.

"They're still there." He shrugged. "As they have been for who knows how many millennia. I mentioned them to you before. Vampire law enforcement, remember?"

"The Volturi," I recalled.

Edward nodded and continued, "Carlisle stayed with them only for a short time, just a few decades. He greatly admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to 'his natural food source,' as they called it. They tried to persuade him, and he tried to persuade them, to no avail. At that point, Carlisle decided to try the New World. He dreamed of finding others like himself. He was very lonely, you see.

"He didn't find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales, he found he could interact with unsuspecting humans as if he were one of them. He began practicing medicine. But the companionship he craved evaded him; he couldn't risk familiarity.

"When the influenza epidemic hit, he was working nights in a hospital in Chicago. He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years, and he had almost decided to act — since he couldn't find a companion, he would create one. He wasn't absolutely sure how his own transformation had occurred, so he was hesitant. And he was loath to steal anyone's life the way his had been stolen. It was in that frame of mind that he found me. There was no hope for me; I was left in a ward with the dying. He had nursed my parents, and knew I was alone. He decided to try…"

His voice, nearly a whisper now, trailed off. He stared unseeingly through the west windows. I wondered which images filled his mind now, Carlisle's memories or his own. I waited quietly.

When he turned back to me, a smile lit his expression.

"And so we've come full circle," he concluded, leading me out the door. We traveled down the hallway in silence at first before ascending the final staircase.

I was mulling over Carlisle's history as we did, my brow furrowed.

"So, uh," I finally ventured. "When was Carlisle in France, and for how long?"

"Toward the end of the 1600s," Edward responded. "He believes he left in the 80s, and he was only there for a couple of decades."

"Right, I guess that was what I figured." I had some very brief knowledge of history, but I was sort of hoping that my estimation of when Carlisle was born– I had placed it sometime around 1645– was wrong. Then again, what difference would two decades have made in the grand scheme of things?

"Why do you ask?"

"I dunno, it's just weird to think he's so... old." I paused, and then said, "Older than America."

Edward laughed. "America is very young."

"I know that, but usually when people say... 'America is very young' they don't mean, like... younger than the town doctor."

Carlisle Cullen: making the world a sparklier place since 1668. Or thereabouts.

We had reached the top of the stairs, and were walking down another paneled hall. I fought back a smile at my own joke, knowing that I was _definitely_ the only one who'd appreciate it."

I wasn't paying much attention and walked right in through the open door at the end of the hall without realizing it.

"Oops, intruding on someone's space," I muttered, and spun around.

Edward was behind me, shaking his head.

"No, it's alright, this is my room."

"Oh." I turned to look, and realized I should have guessed.

His room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back side of the house must be glass. His view looked down on the winding Sol Duc River, across the untouched forest to the Olympic Mountain range. The mountains were much closer than I would have believed.

The western wall was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs. His room was better stocked than a music store. In the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system, the kind that Matt was always buying and then returning when he realized, once again, that he never listened to music. I suspected Edward got much more use out of it than my fickle friend ever had. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade.

"Good acoustics?" I guessed.

Edward nodded, and I moved to stand in front of his massive music collection.

"How do you have these organized?" I asked, unable to find any rhyme or reason to the titles.

He wasn't paying attention.

"Ummm, by year, and then by personal preference within that frame," he said absently.

I turned, and he was looking at me with a peculiar expression in his eyes.

"What?"

Edward shook his head. "It's nothing. What had you so distracted when we first came in?"

"Uhh, nothing important."

He frowned. "I want to know.

"Actually... you don't. It involves sparkling."

Edward groaned and collapsed onto his sofa. "Would you drop that already?"

"Listen, it's not my fault you vampires for some reason have the most non-threatening appearance possible in the sunlight," I said, returning my attention to his collection. I crouched down to look at the most recent additions, and noted CDs from the bands Glen had me listening to and that I had mentioned to him. "I see you are expanding your music tastes," I joked as my thoughts wandered back to what we'd been speaking of before. "I wonder why that is."

"I'm always listening to new music."

"No, I mean, the sparkling."

"Can't you keep your mind on one track for even 60 seconds?"

I turned to study Edward. "No, really. From an evolutionary standpoint, it doesn't seem to make much sense. How old is the oldest vampire you know? Or know of?"

Edward paused to consider. "Well, Aro is about 5000, to my knowledge."

I'm sure my eyes bugged out of my sockets. "And... does he sparkle?"

Edward said, "Well... I'm not actually sure about that. I mean, I imagine he does, yes."

"Assuming he does," I went on, "That means the sparkling developed at least 5000 years ago, yes?... I guess it's possible that it's for luring pray," I noted, studying Edward's features. It occurred to me so rarely, but the women weren't the only painfully good-looking people in this family. They all were very attractive, and I guess since humans were there intended food, it made sense that they would be so appealing to us. "But were people back then interested in going near sparkling people? I mean, would that draw them in effectively?"

Edward blinked. "I– don't know. Why wouldn't it?"

"They didn't exactly have the glitter culture we have today... Although, I suppose this was around the time when religious experiences were widely believed in." Absent-mindedly, I sat next to Edward on the sofa. "I guess they might have been attracted to the sparkling from a religious perspective... That still doesn't explain why _sparkling_ though, there would have been many methods for attracting humans."

Edward scratched his head. "I've honestly never thought about it. I've... never considered vampiric evolution, I guess."

"It's just that it seems funny that you have this sunlight sparkling thing, since vampire legends only started mentioning sunlight fairly recently," I went on.

"I sort of didn't think you were capable of intelligent discourse," someone said from the open doorway.

I jumped a little, surprised, and found Jasper and Alice standing there grinning.

"I sort of thought you weren't either, Jasper, since Rosalie has to speak for you," I returned.

He frowned. "I let her speak for me so I wouldn't breathe in your scent and murder you instantly. You should be grateful."

Alice rolled her eyes at us. "I've had a vision," she told Edward solemnly. I was intrigued, but Edward scoffed.

"Actually," Jasper said, smiling despite himself as he walked into the room, "Alice says there's going to be a real storm tonight, and Emmett wants to play ball. Are you game?"

The words were all common enough, but the context confused me. I gathered that Alice was a bit more reliable than the weatherman, though.

Edward's eyes lit up, but he hesitated.

"Of course you should bring Char," Alice chirped. I thought I saw Jasper throw a quick glance at her.

"Do you want to go?" Edward asked me, excited, his expression vivid.

"Uhh, sure, I guess... where are we going?"

"We have to wait for thunder to play ball — you'll see why," he promised.

"Will I need an umbrella?"

They all three laughed aloud.

"Will he?" Jasper asked Alice.

"No." She was positive. "The storm will hit over town. It should be dry enough in the clearing."

"Good, then." The enthusiasm in Jasper's voice was catching, naturally. I found myself eager, rather than scared stiff.

"Let's go see if Carlisle will come." Alice bounded up and to the door in a fashion that would break any ballerina's heart.

"Like you don't know," Jasper teased, and they were swiftly on their way. Jasper managed to inconspicuously close the door behind them.

"What will we be playing?" I demanded.

"You will be watching," Edward clarified. "We will be playing baseball."

I rolled my eyes. "Vampires like baseball?"

"It's the American pastime," he said with mock solemnity.

I was a little doubtful about the whole thing, but then I reminded myself that there were probably very few people who ever got invited to watch vampires play baseball. I couldn't say no now. For the sake of posterity, of course.


	19. Chapter 19

19.

When I turned on to my street, a black, weathered Ford was sitting in the driveway. It seemed innocent enough to me, but Edward muttered something low and intelligible under his breath from the seat next to me.

"Um, everything okay?" Edward nodded his chin toward the porch of my home, where I could barely see Jacob standing behind an older man's wheelchair, leaning back to avoid the rain. As we drew nearer, I recognized a face I hadn't seen in a long time. I hadn't realized Billy Black was now in a wheelchair. "So, what do we do?" I asked, peering at the two figures on my porch through the drizzle.

Edward shook his head. He was glaring at the Blacks very openly, and I wondered anxiously what our course of action would be.

"You know what, maybe I'll just deal with it," I muttered when I heard Edward actually beginning to growl.

"That's probably for the best," Edward answered, still eyeing them, "Since it seems his visit is not with innocent intentions at all. Be careful, though, the child doesn't know."

"Don't be rude," I told Edward curtly. "Jacob's not much younger than me."

"Oh, I know," Edward assured me with a grin that was all angles, and far too harsh for my liking. As I gripped the door handle and stepped out into the downpour, I heard Edward saying, "Get them inside so that I can leave."

My body was humming with tension from his earlier comment about Jacob. I glared pointedly at him. With a sigh, Edward added, "Please?"

"Hello," I said as pleasantly as I could when approaching Jacob and his father. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long."

"Not at all," Billy replied as he extended his hand to shake mine. "We brought this," he told me, holding up a brown paper bag, "For Charlie."

"Oh, what is it?" I asked. With a sweep of my hand I motioned them inside, allowing myself one swift glance at Edward. He was leaning against my truck, staring into the distance, so rigid and still that I understood the fear he must have inspired in others.

"Is he gonna stand in the rain all day or what?" Jake asked.

"Um, I think his brother's on his way back from the store, so he'll pick him up on the way by," I lied quickly. "He's too stubborn to come in and wait where it's dry."

The door shut with a click behind us, and Billy answered my question from earlier. "Harry Clearwater's famous fish fry," he told me. "You should put it in the fridge. Keeps it dry."

I nodded and wandered into the kitchen to do just that, muttering, "Great, just what we need, _more_ fish... I guess this is good, since I've been running out of ways to prepare it."

Billy and Jake were laughing at my comment as I rejoined them in the living room. "Do you do the cooking?" Jake asked curiously.

"Uh, I live with Charlie."

"Fair enough."

An awkward silence settled over us. I listened intently to the sound of the radiator, just so that I couldn't say the room was absolutely quiet during those moments. I glanced at the clock and realized it was much later than I'd thought. I guess I hadn't noticed the time pass as I spent the day with Edward.

"Charlie should be here in a minute or two," I finally said, wishing it would be sooner rather than later. "Um, will you be staying for dinner?"

Billy shook his head. "Oh no, we wouldn't stay without an invitation."

"Well, I've just invited you."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Yes, we'll be staying. There's a game on and our television broke last week."

"Hey, now, I've come to see my good pal." I couldn't stop my lips from quirking upward at Billy's mildly offended expression, though I expected Jake knew exactly what he was talking about.

The door banged open, and Charlie came in grinning. "Billy, it's been too long, old friend."

The two chatted amicably, and I slunk off to the kitchen. Jacob came in with me. I was grateful for the company, my nerves high strung because Edward didn't seem to trust Billy. Jake told me about some parts he needed for repairs on a car he was working on, and I half-listened.

"Do you do a lot of mechanical work?" I asked.

"Sure thing, that truck of yours wouldn't run if not for me."

"Seriously? Well... thanks, in that case."

"How's it run?" he asked.

"Good, really good. Slow, but... good. Although, I am thinking of installing a new CD player."

"Listen to the radio."

"I try, but I always seem to be driving somewhere with Edward and can never agree on a station." This was true. Edward liked 50s. I liked 80s. It was the biggest rift in our friendship so far. Well, aside from the fact that he wanted to eat me.

"Edward Cullen?" a voice asked from behind me. It was the first time I became aware of the two adults in our presence, so I jumped in surprise. Billy was gazing at me steadily, but it was Charlie who'd asked.

"Yes, Dad... We're assigned partners in three of my classes," I said, pointedly making it seem as if I had no choice but to spend time with him.

"Oh, were you over at the Cullens today?" Charlie continued, while I frantically prayed for a way to make him shut up about this in front of the elder Black. "I came by at lunch, you weren't here."

"Yes," Billy noted, "We saw Char on his way back actually... Where did young Mr. Cullen go?" he asked, repeating Jake's question from earlier, only in different words.

"His brother picked him up. Yeah, I was there... working on some school stuff. I have to go back after dinner, actually." I sliced furiously at some tomatoes, wishing this conversation would end. Like, now.

Charlie grunted."Why didn't you just stay there to eat?"

I stopped my work and turned to stare at him. They say the best way to lie is to be truthful.

"...The Cullens are vegetarians, Dad," I said, casting a glance at Billy. His gaze was heavy and appraising.

"All of them?"

"Yep, every last one." Blessedly, Jake interjected with a topic related to baseball. I cast him a grateful look and he smiled tersely, looking slightly embarrassed. Apparently, Charlie was the only one in the room who hadn't noticed Billy's keen interest in the conversation. After eating, Charlie and Billy disappeared and soon the sound of the baseball game could be heard coming from the flatscreen. I all but sagged in relief.

"Sorry about that," Jake muttered quietly. "My dad's a superstitious old man. But, I don't think he'd say anything with Charlie here. This is sort of a reunion, they haven't talked much since..." He trailed off, and I understood that he was referring to their argument over the hospital. "Anyway, that might have been my fault," he continued. "Before we came he asked if I remembered you. I told him I'd run into on the beach and that we'd talked about school." He shrugged. "I mentioned you said Edward was in your classes, but I didn't think he'd, you know... Act all weird."

I sighed. "I just don't see why it matters. I mean... schoolwork is schoolwork. I'm sure... Charlie would rather I spent time doing school stuff with Edward than... you know, falling in with the wrong crowd."

"Yep, but my dad seems to think the Cullens _are_ the wrong crowd. Anyway, I wouldn't worry about it. It's not like they're out there gossiping."

We both fell silent for a moment, listening to the sounds of the television. My phone buzzed, shocking me. I tried checking my texts but it appeared to be a phone call. I never received phone calls unless Glen was calling to rhapsodize about my inner feelings. Or his. I answered quickly, remembering his strange text from earlier that I had yet to decipher.

"Hello?"

"Are they gone? It's been an hour. Emmett desperately wants to head out for baseball." It was Edward.

"Uhm, no, but... I'm ready whenever."

"I'll be by in five." The call ended with a click. I sighed. "Back to the grind of schoolwork," I complained for Jake's benefit.

I waited in the living room with them as the game went on. Jake and I chatted about the work he was doing on his car. When a set of headlights swung into the driveway it was my cue to hop up and excuse myself as quickly as possible.

"Be back in... just a short while, I guess." I was expecting to see Edward's Volvo, but instead behind my truck there was a monstrous Jeep, with tires that reached at least up to my thigh.

"Sweet ride."

"It's Emmett's," Edward told me. "Buckle up."

Edward drove outside the town limits without a word exchanged between us. I wanted to tell him about the conversation between Charlie and I, with Billy there, but thought it might only serve to make him upset. Eventually he took a turn off that led us onto something I would call a path rather than a road. The jeep tossed me up and down within the confines of my seat belt, but Edward barely seemed to notice. Finally he came to a stop, where the trees towered like great green walls on either side of us.

I looked up to the sky, the rain now barely a mist. It was still surprisingly light out.\

"I was sort of under the impression this was going to be a night game," I noted. "We're early, aren't we?" "

Yes," Edward said as he climbed out of the car. "We have to go the rest of the way on foot, and I didn't think you'd let me carry you."

I laughed nervously. "Aha. No chance."

"Didn't think so. Well, let's get started."

Edward began leading me through the dark forest. This wasn't like the walk we'd gone on before, which all things considered was easy, though long. Instead part of it was a mountain climb, and my hands had been seriously muddied from grabbing ledges and trees after about half an hour. I noticed that this time Edward stuck much closer to my side than during our last hike, hovering by me like a specter.

"What's up?"

"Nothing, just... concerned. I told you about the others in the area."

"Oh, right. Are they, uh, nearby?"

"Not that I know of." He tapped his forehead. "I can't hear them, and Alice hasn't seen anything."

I didn't respond, and we continued onward in relative silence; we didn't speak but were surrounded by the drizzle of rain in the distance, gentle wind in the trees and always the crunching of my boots. Edward walked as if his feet never touched the ground. I wouldn't have known he was with me if he didn't occasionally reach out to grab my elbow and steer me in a different direction. The sky darkened as we approached, casting an eerie darkness over the forest. Soon I imagined that the reach of the trees' shadows were like extended claws, and instinctively stepped closer to Edward– just barely. Enough that I hoped he didn't notice, but would bet any amount of money that he did.

"If we weren't traveling at a human's pace," Edward said at some length, "We would have been here sooner. But it looks like we're just in time."

"Um, here?" I asked, looking around us. Trees, as usual.

Edward chuckled and disappeared into the forest ahead. On the other side I heard him saying jovially, "A baseball game just isn't the same without a food vendor... I brought a snack."

Someone's booming laughter echoed off the trees while a woman's voice chastised him. I thought it must have been Esme. I fought my way through mosses and ferns, emerging from under the reach of a copse of massive pines to find myself in an open field larger than any baseball diamond, right in the lap of the Olympic peaks. Edward stood not faraway with Esme, Emmett and Rosalie.

"Get stuffed," I muttered at him, but he continued grinning, apparently thinking himself quite the comedian. Well, I guess it was funny.

Emmett's laughter faded away and he stared at me for a long moment, impassively and without malice, before turning to join Alice and Jasper far off in the distance. I thought it looked like they were tossing something back and forth, but my mind refused to process a game of catch when they stood so far from each other– I guessed they had about a quarter mile of land between them.

"Alright," Rosalie said, "Are you ready Edward?" He nodded and with a final smirk in my direction bounded off across the field.

Esme remained, smiling maternally. "Shall we go down?" she asked in a soft voice. I nodded, and we made our way across the field, Esme keeping a few feet between us.

"You don't play with them?"

"No, I like to referee– Keep them fair."

"Do they cheat?"

"Oh yes, you should see the arguments they get into. You'd think they were a pack of wolves or something."

I watched them as they bounded around the field, marking bases and gathering baseball equipment they seemed to have dropped in various places. They seemed so graceful and lethal, the comparison didn't seem too off.

"Actually," Esme went on with a frown. "I'd rather you _didn't_ see them argue. It would look bad on me as their mother."

I considered that a moment before asking, a little hesitantly, "Is that– I mean– I suppose most vampire 'covens' don't have such a... family bond?"

"No, that's true. But I do think of them as my children in most ways. I guess I never got over my nurturing instincts. Did Edward tell you I'd lost a child?"

"Oh– no, he didn't." I scrambled to think of something appropriate to say to this, my mind coming up blank. I had not been taught social graces for situations like this.

"Yes, my first born, my only child. He died just a few days after he was born, the poor, tiny thing. It's why I jumped off the cliff."

Esme stated this matter-of-factly, and I struggled not to choke on air. "Oh, uhm, you know, Edward is probably far too, uh, 'gentlemanly,' for his own good," I said, emphasizing the word gentlemanly with a slow, sarcastic drawl. " He just told me that you were changed sometime after him. He never mentioned anything about _jumping off cliffs._"

I wanted to shout the last part at Edward's back in the most accusing tone possible. Why would he send me unprepared into conversation with this woman? Why? If I thought it was possible, I'd threaten to kill him, or at least put him through some moderate amount of pain.

She smiled. "You're right, he really is. It's the time period he was raised in, I think."

Across the field, Alice called, "It's time." As soon as she spoke, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest behind us and then crashed westward toward town. It was time for the game to begin.


	20. Chapter 20

20.

Esme stopped suddenly as we made our way across the field, apparently now at the edge of the playing area.

A few yards away, Jasper stood tossing an aluminum bat in his hands. It spun expertly, but I gathered that he wasn't showing off– I was the only one looking at him. Emmett was up to bat, and everyone's eyes were on either him or Alice, deceptively motionless on the pitcher's mound. I was astounded by the distance between home plate and the place Alice was pitching from, but remembered the way Edward had flown through the forest the week before, and decided that I couldn't imagine the Cullens playing on a smaller field.

Alice didn't do a drawn out wind up, instead whipping her hand out very suddenly. The ball landed easily in Rosalie's ungloved hand.

The second time Alice pitched, Emmett somehow managed to swing the bat around in time to hit a ball flying so fast I couldn't see it– I understood instantly the need for thunder. The contact at such a speed caused a great, low rumbling sound to echo around us. Emmett disappeared like a flash, racing around the massive bases as the ball shot into the forest.

"That's gotta be a home run, right?"

"Wait," Esme said, listening intently. Edward had disappeared after the ball while Emmett was quickly rounding bases. Edward appeared on the fringe of the trees, holding the ball up triumphantly. "Out!" Esme called in a clear voice.

"Have you ever considered that maybe he just runs into the forest where he's got a secret stash of balls in like... a tree trunk or something, grabs one, and comes back?"

Esme laughed, but Emmett went dangerously still where he was standing a few feet away, sulking. "I heard him catch it," Esme told me.

"Ah."

"Wouldn't put it past him, though," Emmett muttered.

"Oh, Emmett, don't be a sore loser," Esme sighed as Jasper went up to bat.

"I'm not a sore loser, because we haven't lost yet. And we aren't going to," he said firmly. "Our team will emerge victorious."

"How do you pick teams?" I asked cautiously, not sure if he would answer my question or brush me off.

"Eenie meenie minie mo."

"Oh."

"Yep, we used to try picking teams by fair weighing out of skills. But it was pointless. Whatever team gets Alice automatically has an advantage. Whatever team gets me automatically has an advantage. Whatever team gets _anyone_ automatically has an advantage, so it's pointless to try and be 'fair.'"

"Oh, uh... what do you mean?"

"Well," Emmett said absently, tracking with his eyes a ball that Rosalie had hit. Esme was catching for Rosalie's turn as well as refereeing. I was under the impression that Emmett should be catching, but that Esme, surprised like me at Emmett's friendliness, was letting us talk. Try as I might I couldn't find out where the ball had gone. It was moving far too fast for my eyes.

"I'm strongest, but Edward's fastest. Alice can see where the ball's going to land– it's why we only let her pitch, although even that doesn't work sometimes. Rosalie cheats mercilessly," he told me, great affection and pride lacing his voice as he spoke of his wife. "Esme always goes easier on Carlisle's team."

"I do no such thing!" Esme protested.

"...And Jasper's just a lot better at baseball than the rest of us."

The blond in question slid into home as Emmett finished.

Emmett was up to bat again, this time managing to score some bases and stopping on second before Edward got the ball back into play. Throughout the game the score changed, and they constantly teased each other, taunting and challenging.

When Edward's team was up to bat, he and Alice approached me to ask what I thought.

"Um, I would say I'd never be able to sit through a dull Major League event again, but... at least I can see the ball. And the players when they run."

Rosalie's outfielding was infallible, I discovered during both Alice and Carlisle's turn to bat. Carlisle hit it so far out there that the boom of the bat on the ball hurt my ears, but he was out before he reached first base. Alice just barely made it to second safely. Edward played more intelligently, keeping the ball low in the infield. When I glanced over I saw that Esme was watching her beautiful blonde daughter like a hawk, and I remembered Emmett's words. How do you cheat when you're an outfielder?

I surmised that, however it was done, Rosalie was an expert.

Edward's team was batting, and he was rushing to beat Jasper to third base, when it happened. He stopped mid stride, turning to look at Alice.

In a moment he was next to me, and the others gathered just as quickly.

"Alice?" Esme asked, reaching out to touch the tiny girl's arm.

"I didn't see– I couldn't tell," she whispered.

"What is it, Alice?" Carlisle asked, the authority in his voice immediately claiming her attention.

"They were moving much faster than I thought. I didn't have the right perspective... They heard us playing. They're curious and they changed paths."

"How soon?" Carlisle asked, turning to Edward.

He looked thoughtful. "Less than five minutes. They're running. They want to play." His thoughtful expression was replaced by a scowl.

"So... I _am_ going to be a baseball game snack then," I interjected, my tone half questioning and half a statement. At least my voice didn't shake.

I heard Emmett fighting not to laugh and then murmuring, "I'm sorry, this isn't funny, it's just the way he said it, totally inappropriate of me to laugh."

He averted his gaze, refusing to meet Edward's baleful black glare.

Carlisle said, "Can you–"

"No," Edward answered before he could finish his question. "It's too far– and they might just pick up the scent and start hunting."

"How many?" Emmett asked Alice

"Three."

"Three!" he scoffed, flexing his massive arms. "Let them come."

Carlisle deliberated while the others stared at him anxiously– only Emmett seemed unruffled. I wondered if this was because he didn't care if I died, or if it was because he truly was confident that everything would be okay.

"Let's continue the game," he finally decided, voice seeming too calm and level for the situation. "Alice said they were just curious."

Edward shook his head minutely, and I wondered who he was answering and what they were asking.

The game resumed, this time with Esme catching and Edward calling the shots. He stood beside me, eyes sweeping the dark forest as much as they remained on the game.

He muttered, "You aren't going to be a baseball game snack."

"Yeah, I– Well, whatever."

I shrugged, unsure of what to say. 'It's okay, I'm not scared at all?' I wasn't, strangely enough. The idea of a vampire attack was less chilling than it should have been, especially not when I had Edward with me and his family spread out across the field.

The game was less enthusiastic than before. The players all hovered about the infield and the ball was never hit very far away. I felt myself weighed down by a horrible guilt, that they'd been having so much fun before. If I weren't here, the presence of a few extra players probably wouldn't have bothered them

"Someone was asking you something," I whispered to Edward, mostly to keep my mind off the stress of the moment, "What?"

He winced. "Esme was asking if they're thirsty."

I smiled a little, because he had answered no to that question. I watched the farce of a game, noting that Rosalie and Emmett were always close to each other while playing now. I wondered if they actually worried for each other's safety– surely it wouldn't come down to that, to having one of the Cullens hurt?

The instant the thought left my mind, I was more frightened than I had been. I cradled my face in my hands, heart hammering. Even if I _did _survive– how would I live with myself knowing that one of these people had to go on without their loved one? I thought of happy, bubbly Alice without Jasper, or _Esme_, such a sweet woman who'd gone through so much pain and then found happiness with this family... If Carlisle were hurt, how could I possibly go on knowing it was my fault? My mind processed every possibility, cycling through each of the faces I'd come to know– even if so briefly, and not always pleasantly.

My breathing jarred as I thought of the final possibility. I had a sudden impulse to cringe closer to Edward, irrationally terrified that he might be hurt, helping me, when he already had done so on more than one occasion.

Plus, if Edward got hurt, who would care enough to stick around for _me_? I imagined that night in Port Angeles without Edward looking out for me, and shuddered.

"You don't need to be scared, we won't let them hurt you," Alice assured me, and I looked up to see Edward's face wretched in misery, and hers tense.

"I'm not scared that something will happen to me," I told her easily, truthfully, and I could tell by the change in her face that she believed me but didn't understand.

Edward began to speak, but stopped mid sentence. He sucked in a heavy breath and took a half step, angling himself between me and something toward the far right field.

One by one the vampires turned in the same direction, hearing sounds of passage much too faint for my ears


	21. Chapter 21

21.

They emerged from the forest edge, ranging a dozen meters apart. The first male into the clearing fell back immediately, allowing the other male to take the front, orienting himself around the tall, dark-haired man in a manner that clearly displayed who led the pack. The third was a woman; from this distance, all I could see of her was that her hair was a startling shade of red.

They closed ranks before they continued cautiously toward Edward's family, exhibiting the natural respect of a troop of predators as it encounters a larger, unfamiliar group of its own kind.

As they approached, I could see how different they were from the Cullens. Their walk was lilted, as if at any moment they might drop into a crouch and prepare to spring. Although their clothes were that of normal backpackers– sturdy, weatherproof jackets in plaids and solids– I saw that they were frayed and that the entire group traveled barefoot. The woman's hair was a matted mess of twigs and debris from forest travel.

Their sharp eyes carefully took in the more polished, urbane stance of Carlisle, who, flanked by Emmett and Jasper, stepped guardedly forward to meet them. Without any seeming communication between them, they each straightened into a more casual, erect bearing.

The man in front was of a medium build, hard-muscled, of course, but nothing next to Emmett's brawn. He smiled an easy smile, exposing a flash of gleaming white teeth. The woman was wilder, her eyes shifting restlessly between the men facing her, and the loose grouping around me, her chaotic hair quivering in the slight breeze. The second male hovered unobtrusively behind them, slighter than the leader, his light brown hair and regular features both nondescript. I thought it funny that amongst the attractiveness of all the other vampires here was one so plain. His eyes, though completely still, somehow seemed the most vigilant, and I was reminded against my own will not to judge a book by its cover.

Their eyes were different, too. Not the gold or black I had come to expect, but a deep burgundy color that was straight out of a Hollywood thriller.

The leader, still smiling, stepped toward Carlisle.

"We thought we heard a game," he said in a relaxed voice with the slightest of French accents. "I'm Laurent, these are Victoria and James." He gestured to the vampires beside him.

"I'm Carlisle. This is my family, Emmett and Jasper, Rosalie, Esme and Alice, Edward and Char." He pointed us out in groups, deliberately not calling attention to individuals. I swear I tried to look as godly and inhuman as possible. It worked for a few minutes.

"Do you have room for a few more players?" Laurent asked sociably.

Carlisle matched his friendly tone, and I wondered if it was amazing acting or the sort of genuine aura of niceness I usually got from him. "Actually we've just finished up, but we'd certainly be interested another time. Are you staying in the area long?"

"We're headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the neighborhood. We haven't run into any company in a long time."

"No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves."

The tense atmosphere had slowly subsided into a casual conversation; I wondered if that was because they were truly friendly, or Jasper was gently encouraging them to be so.

"What's your hunting range?" Laurent casually inquired.

"The Olympic Range here, up and down the Coast Ranges on occasion. We keep a permanent residence nearby. There's another permanent settlement like ours up near Denali."

I noted that Carlisle didn't mention that his family's 'hunting range' probably didn't include the same sort of prey as Laurent's– but surely they must have known. The Cullens eyes would have given it away. Or perhaps these vampires had never encountered any of their kind who chose not to shy away from their... what had Edward called it earlier?... Natural food source.

Laurent rocked back on his heels slightly.

"Permanent? How do you manage that?" There was honest curiosity in his voice.

"Why don't you come back to our home with us and we can talk comfortably?" Carlisle invited. "It's a rather long story."

James and Victoria exchanged a surprised look at the mention of the word "home," but Laurent controlled his expression better.

"That sounds very interesting, and welcome." His smile was genial. "We've been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven't had the chance to clean up in a while." His eyes moved appreciatively over Carlisle's refined appearance.

"Please don't take offense, but we'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from hunting in this immediate area. We have to stay inconspicuous, you understand," Carlisle explained.

"Of course." Laurent nodded. "We certainly won't encroach on your territory. We just ate outside of Seattle, anyway," he laughed. Fantastic. I fought back a shiver, and assured myself I would have a moment of silence later for whatever poor slob had run into these three alone at night– at least, a moment of silence not fueled by a desire to be unnoticed. I had not uttered a sound since they entered the clearing, had barely allowed myself to breathe.

"We'll show you the way if you'd like to run with us — Emmett and Alice, you can go with Edward and Char to get the Jeep," he casually added. Truly, I think it would have worked if not for a rather inconvenient weather mishap. We seemed so close to blowing this whole issue off.

Then, three things seemed to happen simultaneously while Carlisle was speaking. My hair ruffled with the light breeze, Edward stiffened, and the second male, James, suddenly whipped his head around, scrutinizing me, his nostrils flaring.

He dropped easily into a crouch, and I was surprised when both Edward and Rosalie did the same, ferocious growls ripping from their throats.

"What's this?" Laurent exclaimed in surprise. "You've brought a snack?"

I groaned inwardly. That word,_ ugh_. Why was it that the 's' word could no longer refer to hot dogs and popcorn, but me instead?

"He's with us," Carlisle insisted firmly.

Laurent stepped back, but James did not, instead advancing forward again.

"But he's human," Laurent said, his voice not aggressive but coloured with shock.

"Yes." Emmett spoke this time, drawing James' attention from me briefly. His eyes returned to me quickly, but he had clearly noticed the danger of getting in a fight with the Cullens. He straightened out of his reflexive crouch, staring at me with angry red eyes.

When Laurent spoke, his tone was soothing — trying to defuse the sudden hostility. I couldn't blame him– I wouldn't have been surprised if someone had suddenly shouted "awkward!" Self-preservation told me not to try it myself.

"It appears we have a lot to learn about each other," Laurent said.

"Indeed." Carlisle's voice was still cool.

"But we'd like to accept your invitation." His eyes flicked toward me and back to Carlisle. "And, of course, we will not harm the human boy. We won't hunt in your range, as I said."

James glanced in disbelief and aggravation at Laurent and exchanged another brief look with Victoria, whose eyes still flickered edgily from face to face.

Carlisle measured Laurent's open expression for a moment before he spoke. "We'll show you the way. Jasper, Rosalie, Esme?" he called. They gathered together, blocking me from view as they converged. Alice was instantly at my side, and Emmett fell back slowly, his eyes locked on James as he backed toward us.

Edward didn't need to say anything for me to know it was time for us to leave. I turned, headed at a slow walk back in the direction of the forest I thought we'd come from. Edward fell easily into step beside me. Alice and Emmett were close behind us, and although I heard their gentle steps I couldn't hear whether or not the main group had left yet.

Edward's impatience was nearly tangible. I realized that the human pace in such a situation would not seem nearly fast enough to him and came to a sudden halt. He turned to look at me, already a few paces ahead, frustration and what I thought resembled fear in his eyes.

I mouthed without saying the words, "no one's carrying me anywhere."

He clearly got the message because his shoulders hunched and he gently gripped my elbow, pulling me forward.

"Do you suggest we walk? At a human's pace while the trac–" He cut himself off, fuming. I surmised that the other group must have at least gone some distance, or he wouldn't have spoken aloud. Still, they were close enough that he didn't want to finish that sentence. "Someone will have to carry you."

I pinched the bridge of my noise. "Fine. Fucking fine."

Maybe if I closed my eyes it wouldn't be so horrifying. Once we passed the barrier of the trees, Edward slung me onto his back and took off through the forest. I squeezed my eyes closed, surprised at how much smoother the motion seemed when I couldn't actually see the trees flying past my head. We returned to the Jeep impossibly fast, and Edward all but threw me into the backseat. I began doing up the complicated buckle and was actually glad when Emmett got in beside me and helped.

"Thanks," I muttered, and he only shrugged in return before turning to glare out the side window.

Alice was already in the front seat, and Edward was starting the engine. It roared to life and we swerved backward, spinning around to face the winding road.

In the darkness, we might have been bumping around underground for all I knew. The trip was much shorter this time, and we were soon on the main road, where I could see much more clearly where we were headed– south, away from Forks.

"Where are we going?" I asked. No one answered. No one spoke a word. "Damnit, where are you taking me?"

"Far– far– away from here," Edward said through his teeth. "We have to get away. Now."

"What? No, fuck you, take me home right now!"

"Not a chance, now please be quiet."

I stared at him disgustedly and began methodically undoing my complicated harness. "Fuck you, fuck this, fuck vampires, fuck _James_, fuck Forks, fuck the moon," I muttered angrily, my rant seeming to build its way toward an explosion. I felt my intelligence practically melt away beneath my anger at Edward– or perhaps the entire situation.

"Emmett," Edward said grimly.

Emmett's hands felt like steel encasing mine, stopping me as I was about to tear away the last of the harness.

"Let go of me right now," I demanded.

"What'll you do about it?" Emmett asked quietly.

"Torch your house down with your precious wife inside," I sneered at him. "Even vampires don't play with fire, right?"

Emmett looked shocked first, then angry, and his grip tightened significantly around my wrists. I suspect they would have been crushed if Alice hadn't scolded him. And then me.

"Emmett! Loosen up," she commanded. "Char... You seriously don't know how to keep your mouth shut, do you?"

I sagged, my energy to fight with them suddenly drained. "Nope."

Even if a pathetic human such as myself could do something to hurt a vampire, I wouldn't. I remembered Rosalie's weird visit Thursday night– it hadn't made any sense, but it had seemed... genuine. And I recalled the way she'd immediately shifted into a fighting stance in the clearing. I wouldn't want to hurt her, because she had already extended such kindness toward me.

I wondered if Emmett would accept that as an apology. Probably not.

"Take me home," I requested again in a whisper. "Please, Charlie will flip if I go missing. He'll think–" I winced, knowing exactly what Charlie would think. "Your family will be accused."

"We've been there before," Edward muttered. "We can handle it again."

I was surprised when Alice leant her voice to my argument. "Edward, pull over now. We've got to think of other options."

Edward's hard gaze remained on the road, and I saw the speedometer drifting higher.

"Edward, we need to talk this through."

"You don't understand!" Edward shouted at Alice. His voice shook my eardrums. "He's a tracker, Alice, did you see that? He's a tracker!"

Emmett's grip tightened once more on my hands, but not menacingly this time. His entire body went stiff. The word obviously meant much more to him than it did to me.

"Pull over, Edward." Alice's tone was reasonable, but there was a definite hardness in it I hadn't heard before.

The speedometer inched passed one-twenty.

"Do it, Edward."

"Listen to me, Alice. I saw his mind. Tracking is his passion, his obsession — and he wants him, Alice — him, specifically. He begins the hunt tonight."

"He doesn't know where —"

He interrupted her. "How long do you think it will take him to cross his scent in town? His plan was already set before the words were out of Laurent's mouth."

"Edward," I cut in, trying not to shout or accuse. I knew exactly where my scent would lead. "You can't take me out of town without stopping at home first. It's dangerous for your family and for Charlie. He'll go to my house first, please, we have to do something. We can't just run away."

"He's right," Alice said. The car slowed down, gradually at first, and then very suddenly screeching to a stop. My mostly undone seatbelt didn't hold me very well– luckily, Emmett did.

"We have no options, Alice," Edward hissed.

"We have to take him back." Now both Emmett and Alice were agreeing with me, but Edward still would hear none of it.

"Listen," I reasoned. "You take me back."

"No."

"Edward, shut up! Just shut the fuck up while I speak... You take me back, I tell my dad I'm going home to Phoenix. I pack my bags, we leave, with the tracker watching. He'll follow us and leave Charlie alone, no calls to the FBI, no police investigations. Then... you can take me any damned place you want."

The silence itself seemed stunned. But only for a moment.

"It's not a bad idea, really." Emmett's surprise was definitely an insult. That was alright. I expected nothing less of him.

"Too dangerous," Edward said, dismissing it easily. "I don't want him within a hundred miles of you," he told me curtly.

I rolled my eyes at that, and Emmett seemed to share my feelings. "There's no way he's getting through us."

Alice added helpfully, "He won't attack. He's waiting for us to leave Char alone."

"It won't be long before he realizes that won't happen," Edward snapped.

"Edward... _Edward_. This plan is good. Better than yours," I mumbled quietly.

He stared at his hands.

"Alright, but we leave tonight, whether James watches or not. Once we're in the house, you've got 15 minutes, are we clear? Tell Charlie whatever story works. Pack the first things your hands touch. 15 minutes and then–"

"Yeah, 15 minutes, I got it the first time. Let's go already."

The Jeep rumbled to life, and the speedometer began racing upward as the tires squealed.

"Emmett? My hands."

Emmett let go, smiling apologetically.

Edward spoke again. "Alright, here's how it's going to happen. When we get there, if the tracker's not there, I'll get Char inside... We keep driving if he's there... If not, Emmett, you take the outside of the house. Alice, you get the truck. I'll be inside as long as he is. After he's out, you two can take the Jeep home and tell Carlisle."

"No way! I'm with you," Emmett argued.

"Plan sucks already," I interjected before Emmett and Edward could really battle it out. "Charlie's not an imbecile, Edward, if you go in with me he'll... notice if you aren't in town tomorrow or something. He'll be suspicious. You need to stay here... for a day or two."

"That's irrelevant. We make sure he's safe, that's all that matters."

"Edward, fuck, aren't vampires supposed to be smart? You're a moron... The tracker saw how you reacted, Edward. He's going to assume you're with me... Uh, Rosalie, too, probably."

Emmett nodded, his expression a bit displeased. "She does have a bit of a soft spot for you," he informed me.

"Yeah... Emmett should stay, too, actually. He definitely got an eyeful of Emmett."

"What?" Emmett demanded.

"You'll get a better crack at him if you stay," Alice informed him dryly.

"So what?" Edward asked her incredulously. "I should let him go alone?"

"No, of course not... Jasper and I will take Char."

"Edward, listen... You and Rosalie stay here for a couple of days. Let Charlie see that you're still in town. Then... you lead James away on a wild goose chase. Make sure he's completely off my trail, and then come meet me. Alice and Jasper can go home, then. And, uh, it'd be nice if someone stayed in Forks to keep an eye on Charlie during that time."

Edward considered it. "Meet you where?"

"Phoenix, of course."

"No. He'll hear that's where you're going," he said impatiently.

"And you'll make it look like that's a ruse, obviously. He'll know that we'll know that he's listening. He'll never believe I'm actually going where I say I am going."

"You're diabolical," Emmett said to me, and I sensed by his tone that he was not happy with the half-compliment... or maybe he was upset that I was so good at planning, convinced I really meant Rosalie harm. I glanced at him from the corners of my eyes– if he thought that, I reasoned, I would be dead.

"Thanks. I try."

"This won't work. He'll find you in Phoenix." Edward, again, always the voice of negativity.

"There's several million people!"

"There's a phonebook," he pointed out scathingly.

"Well I won't go home."

"Oh?"

"Obviously not. Besides, Alice and Jasper will be there."

"Yes," Edward noted sourly. "In sunny Phoenix."

"We'll stay indoors!" Alice shouted in exasperation, throwing her hands up.

The Jeep was driving slowly along as we drove into town. I thought of Charlie all alone in our house, and felt my hairs standing on end.

"Can Jasper handle this?" Edward asked Alice.

I answered for her. "Jesus, Edward, he sits next to me in class every day– he broke into my room and I'm still alive!"

There was a moment when I received many awkward stares amidst an eerie silence.

"When did this happen?" Alice asked curiously.

"Um. In fairness to Jasper, I do think it was Rosalie's idea."

"Wait, what?" Emmett cut in. "Rose was there?"

It suddenly occurred to me that the blond, mysterious Hales may have meant for our little conversation to remain secret.

"Is that what you meant earlier, when you said Jasper didn't speak? I thought you meant in class." Alice was staring at me thoughtfully.

"I, uh, would you look at that, here we are. At my home. Uh, stop a little short of the driveway, I don't want Charlie to see the Jeep. Alright, I'll head in."

I undid the last buckle of my harness as the Jeep rolled to a stop. "Back in a 'mo!"


	22. Chapter 22

22.

"Hold on!" Edward whispered fiercely, catching me and pulling me back. "He could have been here!"

"Is he?"

"Well... No."

"Okay, listen... I've got a plan. You... can't come in with me. In fact... it'd be really good if you got that Jeep out of here. I want him to think I've come back... on my own."

"Why?" Edward demanded.

"Look, I– I need to seem... Just. Back off! I know what I'm doing."

Edward nodded after some hesitation, although he did follow in the shadows as I approached the house. The lights were all still on. Charlie must have been waiting for me. I was unbelievably glad the Blacks had left.

I allowed myself one quick glance behind me as I stood on the porch, and was struck by how concerned and harried Edward looked as he watched me. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

"Char? You're home late." Charlie was in the living room, on the sofa when I entered.

I refused to meet his gaze, staring at the ground, the walls.

"Am I?" I asked absently. "Hm, yeah, I guess so. Weird."

I walked past him rigidly, still keeping my face turned away.

"...Char?"

I halted at the bottom of the steps, my back to him. "What's up?"

"Everything okay?" Charlie asked warily. "How are... the Cullens doing?"

Nice, Charlie. Subtle dig at what I've been doing all night. I was almost annoyed that he was falling so easily into my ruse. I couldn't believe he thought so little of me– but maybe that was too harsh. I suspect his parental concern forced him to think the worst of me. It must always, for parents with brats who behave as recklessly as I do.

"The Cullens? Oh, uh, yeah, good. Um, I'm fine."

I headed up the stairs quickly. Edward was already inside my room, taking armfuls of clothes from my dresser and shoving them in my bag. I was about to help him when my phone went off again.

"What the _fuck_," I cursed angrily, but thought of the text from Glen that morning– had it only been that morning? I checked the texts, which were suddenly pouring in rapidly. They were a jumble of English, Italian, Zulu, and French– I only knew two well, and was only guessing on what I thought might be Italian words in there. The only English word was "the." But there was one thing I recognized, that made my blood run cold. Halfway through one of the random messages was the single word that seemed to jump out at me– _Josh_.

"What are you doing?" Edward seethed, snapping the phone from my hand and flinging it across the room.

"Edward, wait," I protested. "That's important, it's– he might be in danger, Edward, I need–"

"We don't have time for this, Char, _you're_ in danger!"

"Char! Who're you talking to?" Charlie's voice was right outside my door.

"Uh... no one," I called, my mind circling constantly around the phone message I hadn't read earlier and what it could have said.

Edward tossed my duffel over my arm. "I'll meet you in the truck," he whispered. "Go!"

Edward shoved me into the hallway, to meet Charlie.

"Char? What– Where are you going?"

"To Phoenix," I told him, moving to shove past.

He quickly blocked my way with his arm. "No way I'm letting you go back there," he all but screamed at me.

"Fuck you, I'll do what I want!"

I pushed past Charlie and down the stairs.

"Char, stop! I can't let you do this. You can't go back to that mess you were in. You're endangering yourself, Char, _stop_." He caught my elbow as I was going through the kitchen. I roughly shook him off and took a few steps forward, but stopped when something glinting in the garbage can caught my eye. I stepped closer, peering in, while Charlie watched me from behind. Lying amid coffee grinds and the eggshells from earlier was Edward's rosary. Was that what he'd been throwing out earlier? I bent down to pick it up, wondering why he would get rid of it, and then to lie about it later...

"Char?"

Charlie's voice shook me from my reverie.

"I'm not staying in this fucking prison any longer," I growled, remembering my purpose and stalking toward the door, shoving Edward's rosary into my jeans pocket.

"You aren't a prisoner here, Char," Charlie protested wearily.

"Aren't I?"

"You'll end up in prison if you go back to Phoenix, though, that's a guarantee!"

"Fuck you," I shouted once more, this time genuinely angry.

"What, you thought I'd stand by and let you go back to Phoenix and your drug habit and all those trafficking charges you've got waiting?"

I was immobilized with my hand above the doorway. If I'd been hoping that Edward wouldn't pick that up from Charlie's head, I guess it was too late.

I turned to glare at Charlie.

"You're my son, Char, I care about you," he said more gently. "And I can't let you hurt yourself anymore."

"You do a fantastic job of showing it," I told him in a dangerously low voice, forcing myself to continue staring him in the eyes, although it pained me to look into his wounded face. "Great job _caring_ for me the last 12 years,_ Dad_."

Charlie flinched back as if slapped. Low blow, I thought, but at least he wouldn't follow me. I slammed the door behind me, and when I looked back I could see him through the window, shoulders slumped in defeat as he watched me go. My heart tried to heave itself out of shape at that sight, but I found myself surprisingly numb. I climbed into the truck, struggling with my key in the ignition. Edward pried my hands away and started the vehicle for me, sliding me over into the next seat.

Neither of us spoke.

It was that, the terrible silence, more than anything else, that made me certain Edward had seen all the gory details in Charlie's thoughts. Between us now stretched the knowledge that all those people who Edward had killed in the 20s– for pushing and peddling and tearing people's lives slowly down– might as well have been me.

I brought one hand up to rest my face on, although it was partially to block my view of Edward's thunderous face. Lights filled the street behind us, and I jumped.

"It's just Alice." Edward's voice was flat.

"And the tracker?"

"He heard the end of your performance. He's running behind us."

"Can we outrun him?"

"No," Edward told me, but he sped up as he spoke. Suddenly my plan didn't seem so brilliant. I was staring at Alice's lights behind us when the truck shuddered and a shadow sprung up by the window.

I froze, almost ready to shout out in terror.

"It's Emmett."

Edward spoke with such a total lack of emotion that I felt my own fear and anxiousness ebb away, leaving behind only a slight trace of guilt and the image of Charlie through the window.

We lapsed into quietness. I wanted to say something, anything, wanted to explain to him how difficult life had been and how fucked up everything in Phoenix was, how at the time drugs seemed like the only answer to a never-ending problem and eventually it was impossible to keep supporting the habit without money and it was just easiest that way and–

One thousand other things that I'm sure Edward would never care about. As I thought of Phoenix I remembered Glen's text and that one word on the screen. This night was turning out to be one of uncomprehensible horror. Why did it all have to happen at once?

I heard the tires pass over the bridge, though I couldn't see the river in the dark.

My mind swirled the way I imagined the black water swirling below. I had no way to fix the rift I felt steadily increasing between me and Edward. My heart ached each time Charlie's face came unbidden to my mind, and my best friend was going through God knows what– I should have put more attention into the message he'd sent earlier, I berated myself. I should have called Matt the instant I got it, because I _knew_ he wouldn't have been mixing up his languages like that unless he was stressed. He could have gone over to check on Glen, and things wouldn't be so– so–

Hopeless. I felt utterly defeated, as I had when I first moved to Forks, when I first was forced by Renee and Phil to quit railing before they sent me here. What was the point? Life sucked anyway. Death suddenly felt... Welcoming.

Edward turned off onto the drive. The lights within the windows were bright, pouring out across the lawn. Yet as Emmett yanked me from the truck and dragged me inside, I may as well have been within the forest's encroaching reach, immersed in blackness.

I was so drained I didn't even have the energy to feel disgusted at Emmett's hand on my waist, propelling me forward

We burst into the house with Alice and Edward hot on our heels.

The Cullens stood anxiously, Laurent in their midst. I heard the low rumble of a growl from Emmett's chest as he let go of my arm.

"He's tracking us!" Alice announced, glaring at Laurent. Edward was listless and still beside me.

Laurent's face was unhappy. "I was afraid of that."

With a final sneer in Laurent's direction, Alice moved to Jasper's side and whispered in his ear; her lips quivered with the speed of her silent speech. They flew up the stairs together. Rosalie watched them, and then moved quickly to Emmett's side. She touched his shoulder, and looked at me with deep distress. I couldn't meet her eyes, thinking of the threat I had made to Emmett earlier. I looked away from her, toward my feet. At least my feet didn't hate me. Or didn't have much of a reason to.

"What will he do?" Carlisle asked Laurent in chilling tones.

"I'm sorry," he answered. "I was afraid, when two of you acted so strongly in the meadow, that it would set him off."

"Can you stop him?"

Laurent shook his head. "Nothing stops James when he gets started."

"We'll stop him," Emmett promised. There was no doubt what he meant.

"You can't bring him down. I've never seen anything like him in my three hundred years. He's absolutely lethal. That's why I joined his coven."

_His_ coven, I thought, of course. The show of leadership in the clearing was merely that, a show.

Laurent was shaking his head. He glanced at me, perplexed, and back to Carlisle. "Are you sure it's worth it?"

Edward did not speak up for me; but Rosalie insisted in a low, fierce voice, "We've made our decision."

Carlisle looked gravely at Laurent. "I'm afraid you're going to have to make a choice."

Laurent understood. He deliberated for a moment. His eyes took in every face, and finally swept the bright room.

"I'm intrigued by the life you've created here. But I won't get in the middle of this. I bear none of you any enmity, but I won't go up against James. I think I will head north — to that clan in Denali." He hesitated. "Don't underestimate James. He's got a brilliant mind and unparalleled senses. He's every bit as comfortable in the human world as you seem to be, and he won't come at you head on… I'm sorry for what's been unleashed here. Truly sorry." He bowed his head, but I saw him flicker another puzzled look at me.

"Go in peace," was Carlisle's formal answer.

Laurent took another long look around himself, and then he hurried out the door.

The silence lasted less than a second.

"How close?" Carlisle looked to Edward.

Esme was already moving; her hand touched an inconspicuous keypad on the wall, and  
with a groan, huge metal shutters began sealing up the glass wall. I would have gaped if the entire world didn't seem hazy and insignificant.

"About three miles out past the river; he's circling around to meet up with the female."

"What's the plan?"

"We'll lead him off, and then Jasper and Alice will run him south."

"And then?"

Edward shrugged. "We hunt."

"I guess it's the only way," Carlisle agreed slowly, studying Edward's apathetic face.

"Perhaps a change of clothes? Carlisle's things might fit Char, to confuse the smell," Rosalie suggested.

Edward did not hesitate before nodding in agreement. "Of course, good thinking," he murmured.

We didn't worry about modesty. Carlisle and I traded clothes in the living room while the others raced to get things ready. They seemed to have reached a decision while I wasn't listening, too busy numbly remembering to breathe and going through the motions of getting dressed.

Emmett now carried a heavy-looking bookbag, and he waited by the door with Rosalie and Edward.

"Esme and I will take your truck," Carlisle told me. He turned to the others. "Alice, Jasper, take the Mercedes. You'll need the dark tint in the south. You three take the Jeep," he informed the tense group by the door.

I watched Edward's impassive face and realized suddenly, with a stab of fear, that he was a member of the hunting party. I wanted to ask that anyone but him go, not caring that he may never speak to me again no matter how this turned out. But I knew I'd lost the right to make any suggestions, that the reason Edward still felt it necessary to protect me at all was that he was driven by guilt over his own involvement. I did the only thing I could still do without guilt of my own: I stared at the floor and kept my mouth shut.

"Alice, will they take the bait?"

"He'll track them. The woman will follow the truck. We should be able to leave after that."

"Alright," Carlisle said. "Head out."

Rosalie and Emmett turned quickly and disappeared into the night. Edward glanced at me once, something I couldn't define burning in his eyes. His eyes went blank, curiously dead, as he turned away.

And they were gone.

The silent moment dragged on, and then Carlisle turned to his wife. "I guess it's our turn."

As she passed me, Esme reached out to touch my face.

"Be safe." Her whisper lingered behind them as they slipped out the door. I heard my truck start thunderously, and then fade away.

Jasper and Alice waited. Alice's phone seemed to be at her ear before it buzzed.

"Edward says the woman is on Esme's trail. I'll get the car." She vanished into the shadows the way Edward had gone.

Jasper and I looked at each other. He stood across the length of the entryway from me… being careful.

"You're wrong, you know," he said quietly.

"What?" I asked, my tone a monotonous thrum.

"I can feel what you're feeling now — and you _are_ worth it."

"I'm not," I mumbled. "If anything happens to them, it will be for nothing."

"You're wrong," he repeated, smiling kindly at me.

I scoffed. "You missed the... showdown."

He wrinkled up his brow at me as Alice reappeared, eliminating his opportunity to ask what I meant.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." I shrugged and followed her into the blackness of the night.


	23. Chapter 23

23.

The leather seats of the car were cool beneath my cheek. I stared at Alice and Jasper's clasped hands on the center console, unable to think of anything other than the ache I felt in my chest. For a long time my mind churned monotonously over the same images: Charlie's defeated posture in the window, the name of Glen's brother jumping out at me on the screen of my phone, and Edward's strangely dead gaze before he left to hunt James.

Alice didn't attempt to speak to me, or to Jasper. She sat in the front, staring blankly out the front. I couldn't blame her; none of us seemed to be in the mood for conversation, me least of all.

Sleep had evaded me; my aching eyes strained open even though the night finally ended and dawn broke over a low peak somewhere in California. The gray light, streaking across the cloudless sky, stung my eyes. But I couldn't close them: as we drove, I grew increasingly aware that we were approaching Phoenix. Just being near to the city made my heart clench, as if someone had reached inside me and was trying to pull me along by it.

Phoenix– the palm trees, the scrubby creosote, the haphazard lines of the intersecting freeways. A place where the shadows weren't defined enough for something to hide in, where I had grown up and tanned and laughed in the sun. The rocky ridges, not big enough to be called mountains, had cradled me since just shortly into my infancy.

But all of these memories, and the sheer brightness of the sun, something I had somehow forgotten in my time beneath Forks' dark sky, couldn't make me forget the most important thing of all.

Phoenix, the place I'd called home. The place I'd gotten so drunk one night at a party, and stumbled idiotically, alone, into a dark alley behind the party host's home, where the air had been still and the walls rising on either side left me isolated except for _him_ and his friends, who stood by and laughed while–

I squeezed my eyes shut, curling into a ball. I felt Jasper's calming presence, but still I was all too aware that every turn of the car's wheels brought me to a place that featured in all of my nightmares. The worst thing about Phoenix wasn't the single, terrifying memory, but the taint of every other place I'd been to within the city afterward, places that _should_ have reminded me of every good thing I'd done there or seen there– instead, I would remember the brief glance I'd had of him, the leer on his face that was always there when we ran into each other. Hell, my own neighborhood was terrifying to walk down the streets in. _He_ was just a few blocks away, and always wandering the streets with his friends.

I refused to look out the window, afraid of seeing familiar landmarks, afraid of driving past the central library where groups of teenagers would sit on weekends, along the low cement wall. Watching them while driving past along the I-10, one might remember too much, like the restriction of being unable to just walk back into that world of freedom, as if in a mirror world where everything you knew and loved was suddenly distorted, wrong– as it had been for me. Pheonix had long been to me nothing more than a dangerous place where the only thing worth having was the tingle of cocaine within your veins. I couldn't look at Phoenix, because I knew what would happen. One might see a familiar face. One might see _him_, perhaps.

I shuddered. I saw enough of him in my dreams at night.

"Char?"

I flinched at the sound of Jasper's voice, too long caught up in my own thoughts.

"How do we get to the airport?"

"Stay on the I-10," I told him dully, feeling as if I had ice dripping down my spine despite the sweltering warmth. We were in Phoenix. I huddled against the backseat, but the brief glimpses I had through the front window were tempting, all hard lines of buildings in the distance and the occasional glimpse of green trees. There was none of the wet, oppressive landscape of Forks.

I sat up, peering out the window at Phoenix as it passed me by. I couldn't even be surprised that we'd made the three day trip in one night. I hadn't slept, and was so grateful when we finally pulled into a hotel near the airport. I collapsed into the bed and slipped into darkness, tossing fitfully. By the time I awoke the clock next to me told me it was 3, and the room was so bright with light from the lamps that I couldn't tell whether any peeked in from the edge of the curtains. I staggered to them, pulling them open. The room looked over a dark, deserted freeway. I sighed, realizing it was three in the morning. The city looked dead from here, but I knew many places downtown where people would be just as awake now as they ever were. They would be awake for days before crashing, sleeping through day and night as if in coma. I remembered it well.

I found my duffel bag in a corner and was changing into new clothes when a knock on the door startled me.

"Can I come in?"

It was Alice, and I shrugged a shirt on over my head before responding.

"Sure."

Alice peeked around the door and looked me over cautiously. "You look like you should still be asleep."

I shrugged, shaking my head. She saw the open curtains past my shoulder and quickly crossed the room, shutting them.

"We'll need to stay inside," she told me.

I nodded, too weary to answer.

"Are you hungry? I ordered some food. Edward reminded me that you have to eat a lot more frequently than we do."

"He called?" I asked, feeling more alert than I had since climbing into my truck after leaving Charlie. Was he actually worried about me, I wondered, or did he do it out of necessity, guilt that he had dragged the pathetic human into this mess?

"No," Alice replied, crushing the hope that tingled in my chest. "He did it before we left."

"Oh."

Alice nodded her chin toward the doorway, and I followed her into the front room of the hotel suite. Jasper sat motionlessly, watching the news with no apparent interest in whatever the voices, too low for my ears, were saying. A tray of food was sitting on the coffee table, and I slumped to the floor, picking at it idly.

Alice and Jasper were too quiet for my liking, and I watched them as they both stared blankly at the news.

"What's wrong?" I asked after awhile.

"Nothing," Alice told me, her eyes wide and honest. I didn't trust her in the least.

I remembered earlier, when she'd told me Edward hadn't called.

"Should they have called by now? What does it mean, that they haven't?"

Alice shrugged, looking away from me. "Nothing, Char, it just means that they're... being careful. The tracker's probably too close, they don't want him to overheard."

"What about Carlisle and Esme? Have _they_ called?"

Alice shook her head slightly, almost imperceptibly. Then she sighed, and explained quickly, "But they're probably back in Forks, being careful as well. I suspect they're watching Charlie and being watched by the female. They just don't want to give our location away."

I pushed the food away, not even a little hungry. Two sets of dark eyes watched me as I proceeded to pace the hotel room, feeling caged and restless. Eventually I took command of the remote, changing to a local news station. I hadn't realized how much I missed in Phoenix until I watched the channel for awhile, and it only made me bitter.

I crawled back into bed, hoping to lose myself in sleep, if only for something to do. Alice followed me into the back room, as if by coincidence she had also gotten tired of the other room. I didn't see any point in arguing with my warden, so I remained quiet. She sat at the edge of the bed, lost in her own meditations as I was in mine. Just as I was drifting into sleep the bed shifted, and Alice leapt up. My head jerked up as I stared at her, startled.

"Something's changed." Her voice was urgent, and I knew she wasn't talking to me. She reached the door at the same time Jasper did. He had obviously heard her sudden exclamation. He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her back to the bed, sitting her on the edge.

"What do you see?" he asked intently, staring into her eyes. Her eyes were focused on something very far away. I sat close to her, leaning in to catch her low, quick voice.

"I see a room. It's long, and there are mirrors everywhere. The floor is wooden. He's in the room, and he's waiting. There's gold… a gold stripe across the mirrors."

"Where is the room?"

"I don't know. Something is missing — another decision hasn't been made yet."

"How much time?"

"It's soon. He'll be in the mirror room today, or maybe tomorrow. It all depends. He's waiting for something. And he's in the dark now."

"What is he doing?"

Jasper's voice was calm, methodical, as he questioned her in a practiced way.

"He's watching TV… no, he's running a VCR, in the dark, in another place."

"Can you see where he is?"

"No, it's too dark."

"And the mirror room, what else is there?"

"Just the mirrors, and the gold. It's a band, around the room. And there's a black table with a big stereo, and a TV. He's touching the VCR there, but he doesn't watch the way he does in the dark room. This is the room where he waits." Her eyes drifted, then focused on Jasper's face.

"There's nothing else?"

She shook her head. They looked at each other, motionless.

"What does it mean?" I asked.

Neither of them answered for a moment, then Jasper looked at me.

"It means the tracker's plans have changed. He's made a decision that will lead him to the mirror room, and the dark room."

"But we don't know where those rooms are?"

"No."

"But we do know that he won't be in the mountains north of Washington, being hunted. He'll elude them." Alice's voice was bleak.

"Should we call?" I asked. They traded a serious look, undecided.

And the phone rang.

Alice was across the room before I could lift my head to look at it.

She pushed a button and held the phone to her ear, but she didn't speak first.

"Yes," she finally said. "Yes, Edward, I've just seen him." She described again the vision she'd just had. "Whatever made him get on that plane was leading him to those rooms. I–" Alice stopped talking, and her face was frustrated. We waited in silence."Yes. Yes, we will... Goodbye, Edward."

They hung up without further speaking, and Alice quickly began filling us in. No, filling Jasper in. She didn't glance at me once. "They're just outside of Vancouver. The tracker was staying too far back for them to lure him in. They think he's headed back to Forks, to start over." Finally Alice looked into my face. "Edward says Carlisle and Esme tell him that Charlie is safe."

I shut my eyes tightly, glad for the news of Charlie, but distressed because– what? Edward hadn't wanted to talk to _me_ at all when he called? Of course he hadn't. Why would he?

I felt my fists clenching against my side, almost against my will. I tried to tell myself that it didn't matter, that Edward and I had barely been friends. But I couldn't, because I had shared something with Edward that I hadn't with anyone else in Forks, had let him in as I had only done with Glen, Matt and Ben. I remembered his silence, after Charlie had unwittingly revealed to Edward my... discretions. Was Edward upset with me because of what I did? Or because I hadn't told him? Both, probably. I wished that I could make him understand that- well, the last of my wishes was for him to feel as if I was withholding something from him. After all, I had told him things I hadn't spoken a word to of any one else in Forks. Aside from me, and my friends, and _him_, and his friends, Edward knew something about my past I had never wanted anyone to know. Even my parents didn't hold the knowledge Edward did.

I told myself that these thoughts were a waste of time. Trusting Edward with that part of myself hadn't taken away the things I'd done in the past, hadn't made me any less the person I was.

When I opened my eyes again, Alice and Jasper were gone. I wandered into the front room where they sat at the coffee table, Alice furiously dragging a pen across hotel stationary in a basic, quick sketch. She drew a room: long, rectangular, with a thinner, square section at the back. The wooden planks that made up the floor stretched lengthwise across the room. Down the walls were lines denoting the breaks in the mirrors. And then, wrapping around the walls, waist high, a long band. The band Alice said was gold.

"It's a ballet studio," I said, suddenly recognizing the familiar shapes.

They looked at me, surprised.

"Do you know this room?" Jasper's voice sounded calm, but there was an undercurrent of something I couldn't identify. Concern? Maybe. I didn't know, and I was almost too tired to care. Alice bent her head to her work, her hand flying across the page now, coaxing into being the shape of an emergency exit against the back wall, the stereo and TV on a low table by the front right corner.

"It looks like a place my mom used to go for dance lessons — when I was eight or nine. It was shaped just the same." I touched the page where the square section jutted out, narrowing the back part of the room. "That's where the bathrooms were — the doors were through the other dance floor. But the stereo was here" — I pointed to the left corner —"it was older, and there wasn't a TV. There was a window in the waiting room — you would see the room from this perspective if you looked through it."

Alice and Jasper were staring at me.

"Are you sure it's the same room?" Jasper asked, his voice still calm– and I noticed something. I had never heard him speak so often, had never noticed the lilt in his words before. I realized that Jasper had the slightest of southern accents– I wouldn't have caught it if I hadn't heard Glen's so many times.. In the split second it took for the thought to occur to me, I panicked once more. _Glen_. Was he hurt? Was he even _alive?_

Before I could stage a fully blown internal freak out, Alice's voice brought me back to the present.

"Char? You think it's the same room?"

"Huh? Oh. No, not at all — I suppose most dance studios would look the same — the mirrors, the bar." I traced my finger along the ballet bar set against the mirrors. "It's just the shape that looked familiar." I touched the door, set in exactly the same place as the one I remembered.

"Would you have any reason to go there now?" Alice asked, breaking my reverie.

"No, I haven't been there in almost ten years. Mom was a terrible dancer. It was just another one of her phases, she took one of those stupid night classes for adults." I rolled my eyes. "So she wouldn't have to take lessons with 6 year olds who were better than her."

"So there's no way it could be connected with you?" Alice asked intently.

"No, I don't even think the same person owns it. I'm sure it's just another dance studio, somewhere."

"Where was the studio you went to?" Jasper asked in a casual voice.

"It was just around the corner from my mom's house. We used to walk there... I would do homework while Mom was in lessons," I said, my voice trailing off. I didn't miss the look they exchanged.

"Here in Phoenix, then?" His voice was still casual.

"Fifty-eighth Street and Cactus."

We all sat in silence, staring at the drawing.

"Alice, is that phone safe?"

"Yes," she reassured me. "The number would just trace back to Washington."

"Then I can use it to call my mother?"

"Jasper?" Alice asked.

He thought about it. "I don't think there's any way it could hurt — be sure you don't say where you are, of course."

I reached eagerly for the phone and dialed the familiar number. It rang four times, and then I heard my mom's breezy voice telling me to leave a message. _Shit_. She wasn't home. Of course, I realized, she was probably in Florida with Phil. I hoped so, fervently. It meant she would be far away from James' reign of terror.

"Mom," I said after the beep, "it's me. Listen, I need you to do something. It's important. As soon as you get this message, call me at this number." Alice was already at my side, writing the number for me on the bottom of her picture. I read it carefully, twice. "Please don't go anywhere until you talk to me. Don't worry, I'm okay, but I have to talk to you right away, no matter how late you get this call, all right?" I paused, hesitating before I spoke again. Suddenly I regretted the way I'd been so bitter toward both of my parents– not just when I left Charlie in Forks, or when I dismissed Renee as I got on the plane to leave Phoenix. But for years, when all they did was love me, and worry for me... "I love you, Mom. Bye."

I sat on the sofa, nibbling on the cold leftovers. I anticipated that it was going to be a long night.


	24. Chapter 24

I've made a couiple of changes to chapter 23. It's nothing serious, you don't need to re-read it at all. I just changed the order of some shit so that it reads more smoothly, and thought I'd drop a note in case you are interested enough to re-read it now that it's not so badly written.

24.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but I awoke curled up on the edge of the sofa. The pain in my neck was phenomenal, and I fought back a groan as I sat up. Still, the sleep hadn't been too bad, despite the awkward position. A few times my nightmares had started but quickly faded, and my overall impression of the sleep was peaceful. Jasper was next to me, bent over the coffee table, examining a sketch that Alice was quickly drawing.

"What's up?" I asked him as I rubbed my neck, my voice bleary with sleep. "Has she seen something more?"

"Yes," he told me, eyes not leaving the paper, "Something's brought him back to the VCR room, but it's light now."

I leaned over Jasper's shoulder and watched as Alice drew a square room with dark beams across its low ceiling. The walls were paneled in wood, a little too dark, out of date. The floor had a dark carpet with a pattern in it. The focus of the room from this perspective, the TV and VCR, balanced on a too-small wooden stand, were in the southwest corner of the room. An aged sectional sofa curved around in front of the TV, a round coffee table in front of it. There was a large window against the south wall, and an opening through the west wall led to the living room. One side of that entrance was stone — a large tan stone fireplace that was open to both rooms. Alice sketched in further details– beyond the living room, I now saw the hallway I already knew was there, and at the end of it, the closed door of my bedroom.

"Um."

I stared wide-eyed at the drawing, terror creeping through me. I didn't say anything else. I didn't need to, because Jasper could sense that something was wrong.

"Char? You know this place?" he asked me gently.

Alice stopped drawing and looked up at me. The two of them stared at me for a moment, their dark gazes unnerving.

I pulled the drawing to me, telling them the street address in a low whisper. My finger brushed against the tiny door Alice had pencilled in, at the end of the hall. "My bedroom."

Alice was already off the couch, phone in hand, dialing. I stared at the precise rendering of my mother's family room. Panic bubbled inside me, thinking of my mother. _She's in Florida_, I chanted to myself over and over again, but couldn't block out the part of me internally whispering, _probably_. Uncharacteristically, Jasper slid closer to me and rested his hand against my arm. Jasper's touch was like being painted with a calm stick or something.

Alice's lips were trembling with the speed of her words, the low buzzing impossible to decipher. I couldn't concentrate, dark thoughts creeping in.

"Char," Alice finally said. "Edward's coming to get you. He and Emmett and Carlisle will take you somewhere else, to hide for awhile."

"I thought Carlisle was with Esme."

"Yes, Rose is staying with Esme now... She knows you'll want someone to keep Charlie safe."

I wanted, for a moment, to be glad that I would at least have another chance to see Edward again. But I knew that this task, of saving me, of keeping me safe, would be a burden to him. As I had been a burden to my parents, and to my friends for the last 7 months I'd spent in Phoenix. My throat felt tight, as if I'd lost my ability to speak.

"It doesn't matter," I muttered at some length. "You can hide me, but you can't hide everyone I've ever cared about. Charlie, my mother... Next he'll move on to my friends. I suppose after that he'll go for my ex-girlfriend or some shit. Everyone who's ever meant something to me–"

Jasper dropped his hand from my arm, face suddenly guarded. The calming influence ebbed away, and I was flooded with a sudden wave of anger and bitterness.

"We'll catch him," he assured me in a tone that was strangely disinterested, as if the very intense topic we were discussing was nothing to him. "Alice and I will be here to watch Renee, and your friends too, I guess."

"You can't guard them, they live all over the fucking city!" I snapped. Alice glanced meaningfully at Jasper, and he reached out to touch my shoulder. I felt a sudden, deep sense of lethargy, my mind swimming in fog. Despite the disorientation I was feeling, I knew what was happening. "Fuck you, I'm _not_ going back to sleep."

I put as much distance between myself and Jasper as I could, slamming the door of the bedroom behind me. I stared at the wall for a long time, unable to figure out how I'd be able to make it out of this situation. I could hide, but the Cullens couldn't protect everyone I cared about. Say they did engage James if he tried to hurt my mother or father, or Glen, or anyone else...

The phone rang, around 5:30 AM, I realized when I glanced at the clock, and I heard Alice having a quick conversation, words too fast for me to understand. I waited. I thought– hoped– that she might tell me any new developments, but she didn't. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised– I very likely didn't seem very grateful to them, despite all the sacrifices she and Jasper– and all of their family– had made for me. I thought of Jasper's guarded, careful face as he'd pulled his hand away, no longer willing to waste his effort on keeping my petty feelings in check after I'd spoken so bitterly. I guess I was probably pretty annoying to deal with.

Alice _did_ come get me a moment later when the phone rang a second time. "It's your mother," she said from the doorway.

"Thank you, Alice," I murmured as I entered the other room, trying to make sure she heard the sincerity in my voice. I looked around. "Where's Jasper?" I asked as I took the phone from her.

"Checking out. We're heading to the airport. Edward's on his way in," she whispered.

I nodded, putting the phone to my ear and turning my back to Alice.

"Mom?"

"Char? Char! Don't you ever do this to me again you irresponsible, foolish boy!"

I cringed. Jesus, what was it with mothers and that _tone_?

"_Relax_, Mom," I muttered as I went into the next room, closing the door behind me. "Everything is fine, okay? Just give me _one_ minute to explain." I paused, surprised I hadn't been interrupted or yelled at. "Mom?"

"Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to." It wasn't Renee's voice, wasn't a voice I recognized at all. The person on the other end was a man, and their tone was genial, kind.

"Now, I don't need to hurt your mother, so please do exactly as I say, and she'll be fine." He paused for a minute while I listened in mute horror. "That's very good," he congratulated. "Now repeat after me, and do try to sound natural. Please say, 'No, Mom, stay where you are.'"

"No, Mom, stay where you are." My voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I can see this is going to be difficult." The voice was amused, still light and friendly. "There's no reason for your mother to suffer. Are you alone? Just answer yes or no."

"Yes."

"But they can still hear you, I'm sure."

"Yes."

"All right, then," the agreeable voice continued, "say, 'Mom, trust me.'"

"Mom, trust me."

I waited.

"Now I want you to listen very carefully. I'm going to need you to get away from your friends; do you think you can do that? Answer yes or no."

"No."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping you would be a little more creative than that. Do you think you could get away from them if your mother's life depended on it? Answer yes or no."

Jesus, did he think I hadn't been operating on that assumption the last time I answered, when I told him no? How was one fucking human supposed to get out from the watchful gazes of two psychic vampires? I pictured my mother's face, so innocent and carefree despite her age. Somehow, there had to be a way. I remembered that we were going to the airport. Sky Harbor International Airport: crowded, confusingly laid out…

"Yes."

"That's better. I'm sure it won't be easy, but if I get the slightest hint that you have any company, well, that would be very bad for your mother," the friendly voice promised. "You must know enough about us by now to realize how quickly I would know if you tried to bring anyone along with you. And how little time I would need to deal with your mother if that was the case. Do you understand? Answer yes or no."

"Yes." My voice broke.

"Very good, Charles. Now this is what you have to do. I want you to go to your mother's house. Next to the phone there will be a number. Call it, and I'll tell you where to go from there." I already knew where I would go, and where this would end. But I would follow his instructions exactly. "Can you do that? Answer yes or no."

"Yes."

"Before noon, Charles. I haven't got all day," he said politely.

"Well isn't that too fucking bad," I growled, and immediately wished I could retract the statement.

"Don't speak out of turn," James spoke sharply into the phone. Then he continued in his infuriatingly gentle tone, "And you shouldn't speak that way to your mother. Apologize."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I know."

"It's important, now, that you don't make your friends suspicious when you go back to them. Now repeat after me, 'Yes, Mom. Okay, Mom.' Say it now."

"Yes, Mom... Okay, Mom."

"Say, 'I love you, Mom, I'll see you soon.' Say it now."

"I love you, Mom." My voice was thick. "I'll see you soon," I promised.

"Goodbye, Charles. I look forward to seeing you again." He hung up.

I held the phone to my ear. My joints were frozen with terror — I couldn't unbend my fingers to drop it.

I knew I had to think, but my head was filled with the sound of my mother's panic. Seconds ticked by while I fought for control. Slowly, slowly, my thoughts started to break past that brick wall of pain. To plan. For I had no choices now but one: to go to the mirrored room and die. I had no guarantees, nothing to give to keep my mother alive. I could only hope that James would be satisfied with winning the game, that beating Edward would be enough. Despair gripped me; there was no way to bargain, nothing I could offer or withhold that could influence him. But I still had no choice. I had to try.

I knew Alice was waiting for me, probably curious. I saw her alarm when I opened the door again, and glanced in the mirror on the wall. My expression was dull, lifeless.

"She's in Florida," I told Alice, "She was worried, but... I convinced her there was no cause for her to be."

"We'll make sure she's safe, Char," Alice told me.

I looked her in the eye. With Alice, it was as easy as smiling and appearing alright, I reminded myself. I'd better get good at pretending so that I could pretend my heart hadn't been torn out when Jasper walked in. Then again, Jasper hadn't seemed to care match no matter how my emotions bounced around.

I forced myself to smile. "I know you will, Alice. Thank you. For everything. And Alice?"

"Yes, Char?"

_Tell Edward the same_. "When are we leaving?"


	25. Chapter 25

25.

With everything that had happened in the last few minutes, I would have thought my ability to be surprised had disappeared. But I was, when Alice hunched over, gripping the coffee table and rocking her head from side to side.

"...Alice?" I called, touching her shoulder gently. "Are you... seeing something?"

"Char."

"I'm right here, Alice."

"_Alice_!" Jasper's voice whipped across the room, and suddenly he appeared behind her, uncurling her fingers from around the table. I saw slight cracks where she'd gripped the wood.

"What is it, Alice?" Jasper asked as he tucked her into his chest.

She turned slowly, though her eyes didn't meet my gaze, instead staring across the room. The expression in them was empty, and I knew what she had seen. Still, I had to ask, or they would know.

"What's wrong, Alice? What did you see?"

Jasper looked at me sharply. I kept my expression vacant and waited. His eyes were confused as they flickered swiftly between Alice's face and mine, feeling the chaos, though he obviously heard my neutral tone. Alice recovered herself, shaking her head.

"Nothing, really," she answered, her voice remarkably calm and convincing. "Just the same room as before." She finally looked at me, her expression smooth and withdrawn. "Did you want breakfast?"

"No, it's fine Alice. I'll just go shower, and then we can leave?"

Alice nodded, and I retreated to the bathroom. Almost as if I were borrowing Jasper's strange extra sense, I could feel Alice's wild– though well-concealed — desperation to have me out of the room, to be alone with Jasper. So she could tell him that they were doing something wrong, that they were going to fail…

I concentrated fully on getting ready, methodically going through the motions. I remembered what Edward had told me about Alice's visions, and thought of what I had observed. She hadn't seen James in Phoenix until he chose to come here. And she hadn't seen me at the studio until I chose that path, too. Now they would be watching me extra carefully... I would have to make last minute decisions, to find a way to escape at the moment when the opportunity occurred. Or else it would be impossible. So I couldn't possibly plan now. Instead I thought of the smell of the shampoo, the sensation of warm water against my back.

When we made it to the airport, I discovered that for the first time in many months, luck was on my side. Edward's flight would be coming in terminal 4, the largest, the most busy. I led them through the airport. They stood in front of the departing flights board for a long time while I stood by scuffing my shoes against the floor, scowling at everyone who passed. I heard them discussing the pros and cons of Chicago, New York, Atlanta. Places I'd never seen. Places I never would see. Because whether they liked it or not, I was going to be James' snack.

We sat in front of the long rows of metal detectors, Alice and Jasper watching every shift I made. I couldn't possibly just _run_. I wondered if they would dare to follow after me, to stop me physically in such a public place.

I watched the arrivals board, flight after flight coming in on time. The flight from Seattle, the one Edward was on, as Alice had told me, pointing it out, grew closer to the top. Then, when I had half an hour left to make my escape, the numbers changed. The flight was 15 minutes early.

"So, we'll be getting the first possible transfer flight?" I asked Jasper glumly.

"Yes, you'll be out of here very shortly."

"Is there time for food? I'm fucking starving."

Jasper nodded, tense and unsure. He looked at Alice. "I can go grab something," he said to her. Her head bobbed up and down, minutely. "What are you hungry for?"

I shrugged. "Anything, I dunno. Whatever's open."

Jasper disappeared with a final nod into the food court of the terminal.

We waited in silence for a minute before I turned to Alice. "Hey, can I go to the bathroom real quick?"

"Um, we should wait for Jasper."

I frowned. "Alice, you can come with, can't you? I mean, just wait outside the door."

I shifted impatiently to my other foot, knowing it would make it seem I really had to use the bathroom. She sighed and allowed me to lead her to the washrooms. I had gotten lost in the level three washroom once before– there were two exits, and if Alice stayed where I'd left her I'd never be within her line of sight. I broke into a run the second I was out the door, pushing people aside to get to the elevators.

I just barely squeezed into an already full elevator headed down, right as the door was closing. The others in the crowded space murmured in annoyed tones when I zipped out the second the door opened again. I slowed down only long enough to pass the security guards at a walking pace. Jasper and Alice had either already discovered I was missing, or would in just a few seconds. As I rushed out through the automatic doors my heart sank. There were no cabs in sight– but a shuttle to Hyatt hotel was just closing its doors.

"Wait!" I called to the driver.

"This is the shuttle to the Hyatt," he said confusedly.

"Yeah, that's where I'm going," I puffed, sinking into the first seat. I stared out the window as the curb and then the airport grew father away. I couldn't help but picture Edward there, standing at the curb where he would inevitably find the end of my scented trail, his face frustrated and harried as it had been on the doorstep of Charlie's home. But, I reminded myself, closing my eyes and pressing my face into the cool glass, he wouldn't look that way, since he now had reason then to care if I died.

Finally the shuttle reached its destination. My sudden burst of good luck held– a tired looking couple was just getting their last bag out of the trunk of a cab. I jumped out of the shuttle and slid into the seat behind the cabbie, quickly firing off my mother's address.

"I need to get there as soon as possible... like, now."

"That's in Scottsdale," he complained.

_LOOK YOU STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE–_

I tossed four twenties over the seat. "Is that enough?"

"Sure, no problem," the cabbie said quickly.

I leaned back against the seat and forced myself to relax. I was almost there now. What was the sense in wasting energy on anxiety or panic? I guess there was none. I was going to die, and all the people I loved were going to live. I had nothing to be scared of– what could James do to me? Kill me? Eat me? That was fine.

I had been through worse.

I was suddenly reminded of a quote Ben liked to say, and it took a lot of effort to stop the hysterical laughter that bubbled up within me. _Sleep, those little slices of death– how I loathe them_. To quote Poe, he said, but I suspected he'd only learned it from the beginning of _Nightmare on Elm Street 2_.

It was true, I hated sleep– I couldn't stand the nightmares. But death, I was sure, would be much more peaceful.

A voice punctuated my thoughts. "Hey, what was the number again?"

"Fifty-eight twenty-one," I told him wearily, sitting up.

"Here we are then."

"Thanks," I whispered. I ran to the door, reaching up automatically to grab the key under the eave. It was like coming home in the middle of the night as I often had– the lights were off, the house silent. Normal.

I wished desperately for the normalcy this place had once represented– if I went to the end of the hall to my room, I could look out the window and across the tiny space between our house and the neighbour's... I could tape a sign to the glass pane for Ben, as I always did, and when I looked back later he would have his response taped up in his window. I could sit in the backyard and wait for Matt and Glen to show up, and we could tan in the sun before Ben came out to join us.

I could leave when I wanted because Renee had given up on controlling me, and tiptoe into the house as it was now, collapsing into my bed for days on end.

Except this time she wasn't lying down the hall in her own bed wondering when her wayward son would get home. She was frightened somewhere, depending on me. I switched the kitchen light on the way through the room– there, on the white board, was a ten digit number. I dialed with shaking fingers, and held the phone to my ear by pressing my head into my shoulder.

"Charles. Hello," he answered after one ring. "That was very quick. Well done."

"Is my mom alright?"

"Relax, I've no quarrel with your mother. Unless you didn't come alone, of course."

"Yeah, I'm fucking alone. Why would I want to drag anyone else into this?"

"Dear me, you sound stressed. Do you know the ballet studio near your home?"

"Yes, I know how to get there."

"Well then I'll see you very soon."

I hung up and rushed out into the baking heat. I stood, indecisive, on the sidewalk for the briefest of moments. I had a sudden image of a fate that was– well, better. Safer. I could go back inside, call... who? There was no one who could save me without my mother being risked. There was nothing I could do except go to slaughter.

"Well, look who it is," a voice somewhere beside me drawled.

I swayed where I stood, heart stuttering, head pounding. The one thing that could possibly stress me out further–

I turned to look at him, standing there in the sidewalk. I fucking hated everything about him. His _face_, that obnoxious grin. His _hair_, massive blond stripes in amongst his natural brown, like he'd had a skunk do his dye job... His posture, as if he deserved such swagger, as if he was fit to rule the world, though anyone with sense knew he wasn't– not fit to rule, not fit to _live_, in my opinion. His _friends_, nothing more than a group of slimy, disgusting toads, gathered behind him and snickering, their mouths in perpetual leers– just like they had that night. I hated the four of them almost as much as I hated _him_.

I instinctively wrapped my arms around my middle, as if– what? I could protect myself? He had already proven that I couldn't. I was useless. I couldn't defend myself from him– Glen talked a lot about how things 'weren't your fault' and other nonsense bullshit, but what it came down to was that _I_ was the one who'd had too much to drink, _I_ was the one stupid enough to stumble into a dark alley alone, and _I_ was the one who hadn't stopped him when he knocked me down.

He stepped closer, and I told my feet to move. This– encounters with him on the street– had always been so much less frightening with massive, intimidating Matt by my side. "Swan, it's been so long. I'd thought you run away to Washington, like everyone said."

My feet ignored me.

My mouth, of course, was always working, even when my brain wasn't. "Don't fucking touch me, you creepy fucking bastard." My voice wasn't like my own, harsh and broken, as if I were changed into some hideous creature.

With a smirk, he reached his hand out to me in a slowly drawn out motion, pressing his fingertips just into my chest.

"Awh, Swan, didn't you miss me?"

His words came at me from a distance– I could barely hear for the buzzing like angry bees in my ears. I stared at the place below my neck where his fingers were making contact with my skin. His hand was touching me. His body was on me again. It was the most disgusting, horrible feeling I could imagine, seeing that connection where our bodies met. I shut my eyes, not wanting to see, not wanting to know that he was there in front of me. I would rather suffer anything than deal with him. I would rather jump off the grand canyon. I would rather be hit by a train. I would rather be fucking torn to pieces by an animal and eaten–

and there was the crux of it. I wasn't going to let him touch me ever again. Without opening my eyes, I turned and I ran. I ran as fast as I could, ignoring his calls behind me and the laughter of his friends. I ran with my feet pounding against the cement, a steady staccato rhythm that was strangely comforting, something I could concentrate on to keep out the memories that tried to flood my mind. I ran, out of the arms of one monster and into the arms of another.


	26. Chapter 26

a quick update to make up for the week of no updates.

26.

My breath came out in little huffs as I climbed the steps of the ballet studio at a run, no longer even remotely afraid of what lie in wait for me. It couldn't be worse than the thing I was escaping from. Inside the door was a sign on hot pink paper saying the studio was closed for spring break. I heard him calling my name somewhere behind me, and rushed in through the front door without pause.

Inside the lobby was dark and cool, the glass viewing window looking out on one side on a dark, empty dance floor and on the other side a screen of closed blinds with light peeking through. In the dark I heard the echoes of his call, far out behind me in the real world– his voice had captured my senses, replaying like a broken record. But even that was drowned out a moment later when I heard my mother's frightened voice.

"Char? Char!" Her tone was hysterical. "Don't you ever do this to me again you irresponsible, foolish boy!"

I paused, my hand on the door as her voice echoed through the high-ceilinged room. Wasn't that the same–? She had said that to me once today already, I was certain. I pulled the door open more hesitantly than I would have just moments before, looking suspiciously around the room. I couldn't see where her voice was coming from. Finally I saw it– the television in one corner of the room. There she was, on the screen, tousling my hair in relief. I knew exactly what I'd see if I rewound the tape– me, about to fall off the pier at the beach where my grandmother had lived before she died, and then my mother's shouting while I sat in the water and played dead, thinking myself hilarious as all young boys do.

The screen went blue. I turned slowly. He was standing very still by the back exit, so still I hadn't noticed him at first. In his hand was a remote control. We stared at each other for a long moment, and then he smiled.

He walked past me, passing very close by, in order to set the remote down next to the VCR.

"Sorry about that," he said with a courteous smile. "It's mean of me to trick people, but isn't it better that your mother doesn't have to be involved in this?"

It hit me very suddenly: she was in Florida. She had been all this time and I'd never had to worry for anyone's safety but my own.

I sagged in relief. "Yes."

"You don't seem upset. How curious. Some humans have no sense of self-interest." Again, he smiled at me. "I'm about to kill you, you know."

I nodded, my blood coursing through my veins as if it was singing. "I have self-interest," I told him, looking into his black gaze and glad that it was nothing like looking into the clear blue eyes of another. I realized, noting the black, ruby-edged irises that he was thirsty. Perhaps he would kill my quickly.

"I suppose you'll tell me now that they will avenge you."

"No, at least, I don't think so. I hope not."

"Hmmm. Well, our hopes differ then. You see, this was all just a little too easy, too quick. To be quite honest, I'm disappointed. I expected a much greater challenge. And, after all, I only needed a little luck."

I waited in silence, strangely impatient. By all accounts, I should have been grateful for the extra time. I wasn't.

"When Victoria couldn't get to your father, I had her find out more about you. There was no sense in running all over the planet chasing you down when I could comfortably wait for you in a place of my choosing. So, after I talked to Victoria, I decided to come to Phoenix to pay your mother a visit. I'd heard you say you were going home. At first, I never dreamed you meant it. But then I wondered. Humans can be very predictable; they like to be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. And wouldn't it be the perfect ploy, to go to the last place you should be when you're hiding — the place that you said you'd be.

"But of course I wasn't sure, it was just a hunch. I usually get a feeling about the prey that I'm hunting, a sixth sense, if you will. I listened to your message when I got to your mother's house, but of course I couldn't be sure where you'd called from. It was very useful to have your number, but you could have been in Antarctica for all I knew, and the game wouldn't work unless you were close by... And then they boarded a plane for Phoenix, telling me exactly what I needed to know. I'd already been through your charming home videos... Would you mind if we made a home video of our own?"

He seemed to be studying my reaction as he spoke his next bit. Maybe he didn't see what he wanted, since he finished his speech with a slightly furrowed brow.

"I'm sorry, but I just don't think your... friend will be able to resist hunting me after watching this. And I wouldn't want him to miss anything. It was all for him, of course. You're simply a human, who unfortunately was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and indisputably running with the wrong crowd, I might add."

He stepped toward me. "Before we begin…"

I felt a curl of nausea in the pit of my stomach as he spoke. This was something I had not anticipated. He wanted to talk even more. Willingly going to a quick death was one thing, willingly going to a monologue and _then_ death was different.

"I would just like to rub it in, just a little bit. The answer was there all along, and I was so afraid Edward would see that and ruin my fun. It happened once, oh, ages ago. The one and only time my prey escaped me.

"You see, the vampire who was so stupidly fond of this little victim made the choice that your Edward was too weak to make. When the old one knew I was after his little friend, he stole her from the asylum where he worked — I never will understand the obsession some vampires seem to form with you humans — and as soon as he freed her he made her safe. She didn't even seem to notice the pain, poor little creature. She'd been stuck in that black hole of a cell for so long. A hundred years earlier and she would have been burned at the stake for her visions. In the nineteen-twenties it was the asylum and the shock treatments. When she opened her eyes, strong with her fresh youth, it was like she'd never seen the sun before. The old vampire made her a strong new vampire, and there was no reason for me to touch her then." He sighed. "I destroyed the old one in vengeance."

I was thrown by something he'd said early on in the speech– _your Edward_. Because his choice of wording caught my attention , it took my mind a while longer than it might have otherwise to process everything else he'd said. "Alice?"

"Yes, your little friend. I _was_ surprised to see her in the clearing. So I guess her coven ought to be able to derive some comfort from this experience. I get you, but they get her. The one victim who escaped me, quite an honor, actually.

"And she did smell so delicious. I still regret that I never got to taste… She smelled even better than you do. Sorry — I don't mean to be offensive. You have a very nice smell. Floral, somehow…"

"Jesus, man, can you get on with it?" I had no desire at all to stand around while he discussed my flavourful scent.

He quirked his lips. "Oh, my apologies. Of course, let's begin."

He stepped back, and began to circle, casually, as if he were trying to get a better view of a statue in a museum. His face was still open and friendly as he decided where to start. Then he slumped forward, into a crouch I recognized, and his pleasant smile slowly widened, grew, till it wasn't a smile at all but a contortion of teeth, exposed and glistening.

With a blur of colours he was suddenly in front of me. I didn't see if he used his hand or his foot, it was too fast. A crushing blow struck my chest — I felt myself flying backward, and then heard the crunch as my head bashed into the mirrors. The glass buckled, some of the pieces shattering and splintering on the floor beside me.

I was too stunned to feel the pain. I couldn't breathe yet.

He walked toward me slowly.

"That's a very nice effect," he said, examining the mess of glass, his voice friendly again. "I thought this room would be visually dramatic for my little film. That's why I picked this place to meet you. It's perfect, isn't it?"

I flung my hand out to rest against the wall, struggling to sit up for no reason I could think of. I didn't think I could escape, but it was becoming all too apparent that he meant to kill me as slowly as possible, and despite the logical voice in my head telling my I could do nothing, my instincts were telling me to get away. He was over me at once, his foot stepping down hard on the outstretched arm. I heard the sickening snap before I felt it. But then I did feel it, and I couldn't hold back my scream of agony.

"Now, would you like to rethink what you were telling me earlier? Wouldn't you rather your coven took vengeance?"

"No," I gasped, barely able to form words. Before I could continue something smashed into my face, slamming my head back against the mirror. I felt glass tear across my scalp.

Blood poured quickly from my wounds, and I felt myself growing dizzy. Through the nausea and dizziness I saw something that gave me a sudden, final shred of hope. His eyes, merely intent before, now burned with an uncontrollable need. The blood — spreading crimson across my white shirt, pooling rapidly on the floor — was driving him mad with thirst. No matter his original intentions, he couldn't draw this out much longer.

Let it be quick now, was all I could hope as he launched himself at me. Then as if from underwater, I heard the voice, and the clattering of the door, cutting through the still air as the hunter bent over me.

"Hey, Swan! You know we stood for a long time outside waiting, before we realized this place was closed. Nice escape plan." The words were delivered to the sound of much snickering.

"I said to come alone," I heard James hiss directly into my ear.

"Humans," I mumbled. "They followed me."

"Well, I suppose this makes things a little more interesting."

I heard footsteps across the floor, and the sound of the door creaking open. I couldn't comprehend the words I heard– but no one can mistake the sound of suffering. It was captivating. Even so, I wasn't drawn in enough that it didn't occur to me that James was distracted. I crawled, using the side bar to get to my feet. My arm was undoubtedly broken, and blood dripped into my eyes, but I staggered to the back exit. I could hear the sound of running, and a door being slammed shut as if someone were, like me, trying to escape. I hoped that James was feeding, pulled in by his thirst. I had to shove against the back door with my good shoulder several times before it gave way, opening onto the back lot.

As soon as my feet hit pavement, I ran. I veered off course on more than one occasion, unable to see where I was going through the liquid pouring down my face and unable to hold myself upright because of the loss of it. As I got to the front of the building I saw blood along the curb, and disorientation overtook me. Had I gone around the building twice? Had I backtracked? I paused, gathering my bearings. Before I was really sure of my surroundings, my feet carried me onto the street. I had to put as much distance between myself and James as fast as possible.

The squeal of rubber shocked me, so loud to my left that it hurt my ears. I turned toward it, throwing my hand out to balance myself.

It hit metal as a car stopped within inches of my legs.

"Char?"

I couldn't see him, but I recognized Edward's voice. Cold hands gripped my arms and I was soon sitting on something plush, cool. Pain lanced through me where I felt the contact below my left shoulder. A car's interior, I realized as someone wiped blood away from my eyes with soft fabric. I blinked, my vision swimming into focus. Edward's face, held only inches from my own, was relieved, almost awed, as he looked at me.

"You're alright," he breathed. "Thank God."

"Let go'f m' damned arm," I muttered, slurring my words together. I shut my eyes, too weary too hold them open.

Gentle pressure moved up each of my arms. I groaned in pain when I felt a particularly sharp sensation.

"This arm's definitely broken," a methodically even voice was saying. I felt a sharp pain in my side, as if someone were prodding me from within my stomach with a knife. "And perhaps some ribs. The head wound is mostly superficial, I believe, but we should staunch the bleeding."

_Carlisle_, I realized, recognizing not his voice but the calm authority he conveyed with it. He didn't sound worried, but I felt like I was about to die. My consciousness was quickly slipping away, and I swayed in my seat.. They spoke quietly for what felt like forever as time stretched itself out before me. I barely registered the feeling of someone's arm twisting its way behind the small of my back to hold me up.

"His blood's all over the car," someone new put in. "We'll have to burn it, too. Shame. It's a nice car."

"Alright, carsplosion," I mumbled. I tried to pinpoint the voice. Finally, it came to me. "Alice."

"I'm right here."

"The video," I muttered. "You need to watch it."

"What video?"

"We found a camcorder inside. Everything's taken care of in there. Jasper's lighting it now..." I knew it was Emmett speaking, recognized his deep voice. " There are humans inside."

"Alive?" Carlisle's voice this time, no longer calm but appalled.

There was no response, only silence.

"We should move the car around," Edward finally muttered, but I barely heard his voice, my thoughts stuttering over Carlisle's question, growing less organized and increasingly foggy.

"Wait. Is Ja– Is he dead?" I asked, unable to speak the name I'd been avoiding even thinking for more than half a year.

"Yes," Edward murmured in my ear, the last thing I heard before finally surrendering to unconsciousness. "He's dead, and four others. You should probably sleep now."


	27. Chapter 27

27.

I woke up to blinding white light. The walls of the room I was in were so nondescript they might as well have been nonexistent. I recognized them well. I sighed. The hospital. Joy among joys.

At least I was alive. I struggled to sit up, my chest and stomach aching as I did.

"Ah, ah. Don't move," someone said behind me, and cool hands pushed me back onto the bed.

"Edward?" I turned to look, surprised to see him sitting on the chairs at my side, staring intently at my face.

"Good morning," he whispered, turning his face away from me.

"I need to call Charlie," I told him tiredly. "And Renee."

"Alice did. Your mother's here."

"She is? What did you tell her?"

He smiled, but I could just barely see it on his down-turned face. "You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window..." He glanced up, but his eyes flickered back down to his lap nearly instantly upon meeting mine. "Don't worry, Alice fabricated evidence for us. You could probably sue the hotel if you wanted."

"What was I doing in the hotel?" I asked, still skeptic, and admittedly, not wanting the conversation to change to the thing creating awkward tension between us.

"Coming to see me... I flew to Phoenix to talk some sense into you when I heard you were returning... With parental supervision of course."

"You think my parents are going to believe that you just flew down to Phoenix from Washington because I had decided to move back?"

Edward still refused to meet my eyes, and at this even went so far as to look out the window. "Well," he began delicately, "When you take into account the fact that I was very concerned, knowing about... your past– Yes, it does seem more believable."

"Oh, yeah," I mumbled. "That."

I had been hoping that this was a conversation we could avoid for a little longer. I didn't know what to say, unsure what was appropriate and what was– well, _right_.

Edward spoke first. "I'm sorry," he said.

"What for?"

"For dragging you into this. And... for being an idiot."

"Um." I didn't understand his apology at all. He looked up at me with a thin, worn smile.

"Did I scare you?" he asked. His voice was bitter, but I knew it wasn't toward me. "When I talked about how I had made a point of hunting drug dealers down and killing them?"

I shook my head and cringed at the pain the movement caused. "No. I told you before, Edward... I know it's still not as good as forgiveness from... they themselves. But, I wasn't lying. When I said I forgave you your past... Maybe that holds a little more weight, now that you know you might as well have been killing me."

"Knowing it might have been you only makes me feel worse," Edward said quietly, so much so that I almost didn't hear him. "Because it just reminds me that– everyone has their own hardships, and even the people I wrote off so easily as being evil–" His voice was thick with sarcasm– "have people who..." Edward paused, considering. His eyes were wide as he looked at me. He turned away once more, standing and walking to look out the window. After what seemed like a very long time, he finished his sentence. "People who love them. Everyone I've hurt had their own... parents. Friends."

I hated every second of this conversation. Talking about this– forgiveness, and blame, and _feelings_ in general– made me uncomfortable and unsure. I didn't want to feel as vulnerable as I did. On the other hand, I didn't want Edward to feel as vulnerable as he looked, standing so stiffly against the wide window.

"Edward... the fact that you regret your decisions is enough for me. Maybe not for the family of those who died. But, they aren't here. Besides, just because you know people who don't hate me doesn't mean I haven't done things that were... Shit, you know. Wrong."

"I know that," Edward said evenly. He paced back to the side of my bed, resting his hand on the sheets. "But, like you forgive me, I can do the same. Maybe even with more justification because you had difficult things to work through."

He looked up, toward the doorway. "Your mother's coming. I'll step out."

Edward had already crossed the room and was leaving before I had a chance to say anything farther. Not much later I heard Renee's voice in the hallway, talking to someone. She sounded tired and upset. When she finally wandered in I saw that she looked exhausted, with dark bags under her eyes and her hair astray.

"Oh, Char, you're awake."

She hugged me gently, and I was surprised to feel tears falling onto my cheek– definitely not my own.

"Ugh, Mom, you're crying on me."

"I'm sorry, it's just such a relief to see your eyes open again."

"Uh, how long have they been closed?" I asked, realizing suddenly that I didn't know when it was.

"It's Friday," she told me. "They had to keep you sedated for awhile– you've got a lot of injuries."

I wasn't sure what day it had been when I checked in, so that didn't mean much to me. I shrugged, and then winced at the pain. I was going to have to remember not to do that again. Shrugging while laying down was awkward anyway.

"You're lucky Dr. Cullen was there," she continued, and I could hear parental authority creeping into her tone. "But he shouldn't have needed to be, Charles."

"Ugh, _don't_ call me that!"

Renee crossed her arms. "When we get to Jacksonville, you are going to be on the most strict of all schedules. School and home, I don't care what else you want to do. I'm tired of you putting your life at risk– running off to Phoenix! It's a damn good thing your friend knew what would end up happening if someone didn't stop you."

"When did Jacksonville come into this?"

"Phil got signed, we're moving," my mother told me shortly. "Don't try to change the subject."

"Okay, but why would I be in Jacksonville? I live in Forks."

"You hate Forks," Renee said slowly, blinking. "We knew you'd want to come with."

If the choice was between Forks and Phoenix, it would have been a hard decision. I could come back and live with my friends again. Or I could stay with Edward. But Forks vs. Jacksonville?

None of my old friends and no Edward.

"Mom, I'm not going to Jacksonville. I don't _want_ to go to Jacksonville."

"I wish your own decisions could be trusted enough for that to matter, Char," Renee said. "But you've gone to Forks once and come back and this happened!"

I sat up so quickly I didn't have time to think about the pain until after it took over me.

"I am not fucking going to Jacksonville!" I half-shouted.

Renee frowned at the swear word but didn't bother scolding me. She sighed, all the authority leaving her face to be left with sadness.

"I don't mean to be a tyrant," she said gently, placing her hand over my good arm. "I just want you to be happy and looked after. And no drugs."

"What could possibly happen in Forks?" I asked her, exasperated. "I'm sure Charlie's not going to let this happen again, Mom. I only managed to get away from him in the first place because– well, I was being mean and managed to hurt his feelings enough that he didn't come after me," I mumbled shamefully.

"I know," Renee responded gently. "He called when you left."

Neither of us said anything for awhile. Renee looked at the large clock on the wall. "Phil's supposed to call," she told me absently. "I didn't know you would wake up."

Her change of subject held the distinct power of a dismissal. I raised my shoulders minutely, in the smallest of shrugs, so I wouldn't hurt my ribs.

Renee sighed. "You really want to go back to Forks?"

"Yeah. Yes, I do."

"Okay, then. I'll be back tonight." Renee smiled. "I've been sleeping here."

"Mom, you don't have to do that. Go home."

"Well, I would, but to be honest I've been nervous. There's been a lot of crime in the neighbourhood..." Renee suddenly looked doubtful, as if she'd said something she shouldn't have.

"What's up?"

"The ballet studio I used to go to was burned down," she told me. "And the remains of a stolen car were found there... There were... well, some boys you went to school with were found inside."

I tried to look surprised. I tried to look upset. Inside I was a turmoil of emotions– part of me wanted to feel guilty over their deaths, but most of me was glad to see them gone.

"Oh, uh... were they hurt badly?"

Renee winced. "They didn't make it."

"Oh, shit. That's... terrible."

"It is. Well, I– I need to go get that call. Like I said, I'll be back tonight. I'll send a nurse in to see you."

"Okay, Mom. You really should sleep in a bed, though."

"I know. I'll see you later."

Renee stroked my hair once, and I fought back a scowl. As soon as she closed the door I expelled a huge breath in relief. A nurse bustled in a moment later and began asking me questions. I answered absently, my mind elsewhere.

"Time for more pain meds, sweetheart?" she asked kindly, tapping the IV feed. Did she just call me that? Really? I reminded myself that old ladies will do such things, and it can't be held against them.

"No, no," I mumbled, trying to keep the pain I was feeling out of my voice. "I don't need anything." I couldn't afford to close my eyes now. I was waiting for Edward to come back, so we could finish our conversation.

"No need to be brave, honey. It's better if you don't get too stressed out; you need to rest." She waited, but I just shook my head.

"Okay," she sighed. "Hit the call button when you're ready."

I was alone again, and I waited for a long time for Edward to come back. I kept glancing anxiously at the clock, but an hour passed with no sign of him. It was shortly before noon when nurses starting bringing food trays around to all the patients. I sat with my eyes widened in dread, staring at the mess they called sustenance. Was I expected to eat it?

I glanced into the hallway through the opened door. My room seem to overlook one of the lobby areas, where the central nurse's station was. Across the wide space I could see other doors, with nurses bringing colour-coded food trays into other, unsuspecting patients like me. What caught my eye, though, was the hulking shape of a massive man wearing a cap and next to him someone much, much smaller, emerging from a hospital room and shutting the door gently behind them. I had only the briefest of glimpse of the tinier person, beyond the hulking shape of their companion. With the bad angle I was seeing them from, it could almost have been Emmett and Alice– but Emmett would never wear a bright orange cardigan, not in a thousand years. I knew only one guy that would.

Despite the pain, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pulling out the IV drips. I was certain it was for nothing other than painkillers, and I could do without. Detaching the heart monitor was a little more troublesome. A young, male nurse quickly rushed in, asking what I was doing.

"Uh, using the bathroom?"

"You've a catheter!" he scolded me.

I looked at him in disgust. "I don't bloody well care... Please. I just want to use the bathroom like a normal person."

He sighed, and grabbed my chart, looking it over.

"I'm not authorized to make this call," he told me. "But... fine. You can use the bathroom. God knows I wouldn't want to be pissing into a tube. There's a washroom adjoining your room." He motioned to a door in the corner. "I'll be back in _five minutes_ to check on you and hook your monitor back up."

"Yeah, yeah."

I waited the bare minimum of time until I was certain I could sneak by unnoticed. I peered out into the lobby-type area, noting that the place was a bit crowded with people coming and going for lunch breaks. Good.

I tried to look like I was a patient with every right to be wandering around, while moving quickly.

I managed to cross the floor safely, and glancing once over my shoulder, slipped into the room I'd seen Matt and Ben coming from.


	28. Chapter 28

Found out today this story's on the alerts list of 60+ people. Wow! Thanks to everybody who's reading so loyally and of course to my reviewers as well.

28.

The click of the door shutting behind me was inaudible above the beeping of the heart monitor, but my intake of breath as I surveyed the room was not. On a hospital bed not dissimilar from my own was Glen– his face was darkened with fading bruises, and stitches ran down the left side of his forehead. His blond hair was matted to his skull. His eyes were closed, but with all the injuries he had I couldn't possibly imagine it was in peaceful sleep. His right arm was in a cast much like the one on my left arm, but unlike mine Glen's cast covered not just the upper portion but the entire length of the arm.

I stepped closer, hesitantly. The room was so quiet that my single footstep sounded like the explosive discharge of a gun.

"What, are you guys back already?" Glen asked, eyes still closed. "No way was that enough time to get me a– Char? Shit, man, what happened to you?"

With his eyes opened, Glen wasn't quite as horrifying a sight. His usually tanned skin was marred, but his gaze was as blue and vibrant as ever. Hearing my friend's voice made everything slip away for a moment– the anxiety of my conversation with Edward, the tiresome lecture from my mother, the fear of the last moments I remembered before waking up in the hospital. It was like being whisked into a separate reality. Although, given the situation, not necessarily a happier one.

"I'd ask the same, but I guess I already know what happened to you," I grumbled.

Glen grimaced. "Don't," he said pleadingly, and then added with a tiny smile that was full of hope, "You've already let me down by not being Matt with my Chuck Box burger."

I knew that every time this conversation came up, it would be the same. Glen would avoid it, and he would look at me beseechingly, wishing for me to avoid it as well. But how could I?

I crawled onto the tiny hospital bed next to him, our uninjured arms touching as we lay side by side. Glen was one of the few people whose touch comforted rather than revolted me. "Are you kidding? You get hamburgers? I'm stuck with hospital food," I joked, doing my best to refrain from saying something rude.

Glen handed me his phone. "Just text him and tell him you're here."

I didn't bother explaining all the gory details in a text, just sent–_ I want two. Make one without ketchup._

You want two? Okay, fatass, Matt's response said a moment later.

Glen and I snickered over that for a moment before lapsing into silence. Very rarely would I say a silence with Glen has been uncomfortable– after all, he laid with me for days on end while I did nothing but stare at the ceiling mutely and cry intermittently. When you've shared that experience, you acclimatize quickly to quietness. But it was difficult, more difficult than I thought possible, to say nothing. Saying the things I wanted to would only sadden my friend, and I had no desire to do that. But not saying them was almost as bad. _Someone_ had to– Matt wouldn't, even Ben wouldn't. And Glen didn't have any support system outside of us and Josh and he was the problem in the first place.

"He should be in _jai_l, Glen," I finally snapped in impatience as my thoughts spun out of control.

"Don't be like that," he said, voice instantly taking on the weariness of someone who'd seen more than a 17 year old should. "It was just a fight. You just– you can't understand because you don't have a brother."

"And thank God for that because if it's _normal_ for siblings to beat each other into hospitalization then I don't want anything to do with it!"

Glen didn't respond. I stared steadfastly at the ceiling and knew he was doing the same.

"It wasn't a fight," I whispered to the white tiles above after the briefest of silences. "I know it wasn't, because it never is. You don't fight back."

"It's not– he was drunk. He didn't mean to."

"I know he was drunk. He's always drunk. When isn't he?"

"He's all I have."

Glen's tone was subdued and broken, and I shut my eyes as if it would stop me from having to be a part of the entire situation.

He went on, "It's been hard for him. He's been stuck with me since he was 18. He didn't have to give up his life to take care of his 11 year old brother but he did, and–"

"Stop making excuses for him. You would have been better off if he didn't."

"But then I wouldn't have _any_ family." He spoke so quietly that some parts of his sentence were drowned out by the heart monitor. But I knew what he was saying. He'd said it before. He'd probably say it again. "We're the last of the great Whitlock soldiers," he went on in a tone that wanted so badly to be light and joking but just _wasn't_.

"He's dangerous," I said, my eyes still shut. I half-focused on the red spots trickling through my vision, comforted by the simplicity of the shapes. But then the splotches became red streaks across a blackened battle field, and I opened my eyes to focus once more on the whiteness of the room. "I should just tell the cops since you won't– at least then you'd be safe."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Glen said softly, and then added waveringly, "I_ didn't_ do that to you, when you didn't want to go to the cops."

"That's different! It was a one-time thing; this is always!"

"He harassed you until you moved! Josh doesn't _want_ to hurt me, if he deserves to be in jail then Jason certainly–"

"_Don't _say that name."

My voice was more harsh than I intended it to be– but it always was, when the subject turned to him.

I felt Glen crossing his arms next to me, and a moment later heard him mumble, "Ow..."

Glancing over I saw that he was now gently cradling his broken arm in the other rather than holding them defensively against his chest.

I scoffed. "Nice try."

The tension ebbed away like blood from a wound. "Shut up... So." Glen turned slightly and I did the same, facing him more directly. "What did happen to you?"

"I fell out a window and down two flights of stairs at a hotel."

"What were you doing in Phoenix?" he asked. "I mean– uh, I'm sorry about those stupid texts, I was just upset."

I knew what he was thinking– that I'd come back to do something about Josh. I also knew that he'd feel both guilty over my injuries and distressed by my hatred of the brother he loved so much if I let him go on thinking about it.

"Those fucking texts, Glen, were written in all manner of languages which I cannot speak. One was French. But not good French– I could barely make heads or tails of it. I'm going to need several dictionaries to decode them."

"No, no, don't bother," he said quickly, relief evident in his voice. "I mean, they were unimportant. They didn't say anything that you... that matters."

I wondered what they'd said. They'd been sent several hours apart, so it meant that all day something had been going on.

"Why didn't you call Matt?"

"I can take care of myself."

"Call Matt next time."

"He was away," Glen said, sounding annoyed now. "On a business trip with his dad. Ben was busy."

"He said he was busy when you called?" I asked skeptically.

Glen grumbled under his breath a little. "I didn't call. He'd been telling me for a week about this date he was going on."

"Ben doesn't date, he fucks casually." Ben has rounded the bases more times than Hugh Hefner, I swear– except he has no interest whatsoever in the things you'd see between the pages of Playboy. I'm not sure how he manages to have so much sex, considering there must be a limited number of gay men in Phoenix, let alone gay men willing to have casual sex with a total stranger.

Glen shook his head. "That's just the thing, though, it was a date. He– I mean, he's been eating."

Our conversation was interrupted by a ruckus in the hallway.

"I wonder what that's about?" Glen mused as the sound of muffled voices grew louder and more distressed.

"Missing patient'd be my guess," I told him with a dismissive wave of my hand.

"Char?" Glen was as good at loading his voice with disapproval as parents were.

I sighed. "I'm quite alright here."

"The nurse in charge of you will be in shit."

"They'll find me in a bit without my help."

Glen frowned, but didn't argue further. "So what were you doing in Phoenix?"

"Oh. I, um. I just was stressed out in Forks."

This time Glen's disapproval was sharper and less easily avoided. "You came for drugs," he stated without the barest hint of question.

"No. I mean. Shit. Yes, but. I haven't done anything except fall out a window and lie in the hospital, so, I'm just as clean as before."

Covering up the whole vampire situation with a tale of relapse made it awfully difficult to avoid lectures, it seemed. But for once, Glen didn't lecture me. He didn't ask to talk about my feelings. I watched him pick at a loose thread on the hospital sheets with his good hand. I suspected that he was still thinking of Josh, the only thing that was ever capable of taking his mind off of my problems, it seemed.

But he proved me wrong when he finally spoke. "Amanda's pregnant."

I started, and knocked by head against the wall. On top of the pain I experienced just moving, this made me hurt enough to shriek briefly.

"Ow, fuck, what?"

"I mean, it's a recent thing. I'm not saying– you guys weren't even having sex for like half a year before you moved, obviously you would have _known_."

"Right, right."

"It's good for her," Glen insisted.

"She's 16! How's it good?"

"It– I mean, she's really pulling her shit together. Finding out she was pregnant made her, you know, have an epiphany. She's been clean since right after you moved. She's getting better."

"She shouldn't have to," I mumbled. "She never would have been involved in any of that shit to begin with if she wasn't dating a fuck up like me."

"You know I love to make you feel better, man, but– yeah. It wouldn't have happened if you didn't get her into it." Glen curled closer into me, and we huddled together like a pair of men in the trenches. "Still, she doesn't blame you. And– things are looking up now."

I didn't respond, feeling my weariness settling over me. My entire body was ebbing with pain, and my mind was going numb from so many emotionally exhausting conversations. I heard my own breathing settle and deepen, and Glen's heart monitor slowed gradually as we laid there into the rhythm of someone deeply asleep.


	29. Epilogue

Really sorry this took so long, classes sneaked up on me. This is the last installment of "Anticipation." Keep an eye out for the sequel- "Binge"

Epilogue

"_Hey, get up_." It was Charlie's voice. It seemed out of place. I turned around to look at the porch of our house, but she wasn't there. My heart was hammering in my chest.

"_Swan, I thought you'd run off to Washington_." I spun quickly, facing him on the sidewalk. The heat was a sweltering wall between us, but not thick enough. Never thick enough. He reached out to me, touching my chest. I looked down in horror at the connection his fingers made to my body. I squeezed my eyes shut and when I opened them with a startled intake of breath I was staring at the ceiling of my bedroom.

Charlie was hovering to the side. "You're going to be late for school," he reminded me hesitantly.

He'd been acting unsure around me ever since my return more than half a month ago, as if at any moment he expected me to pick up for Phoenix again, or spew the same vitriol I had the night I'd left.

"Right," I mumbled. "Yeah."

I began getting ready blearily. School had become a mind numbing routine once more. Edward had strolled into my hospital room after I'd returned to it and acted as if nothing had changed. But things had changed, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't pretend otherwise. We hadn't spoken about the things that had been said the night we left Forks. It didn't seem like we were going to.

I had no experience whatsoever initiating a conversation much deeper than shared interests and what had happened over the weekend with anyone other than my friends. I'd confided in Edward when I first came to Forks, but with every passing day I grew more confused as to how I'd done it– it seemed impossible now to talk to him, so why had it been so easy when we'd just met?

The last time I'd had an easy conversation was sitting in the hospital with Glen, Ben and Matt. It was exactly as I remembered– Glen's quick wit, Matt's somehow refined obnoxiousness, Ben's obvious exasperation at every other thing to come out of Matt's mouth. For a while I'd let myself pretend I was in the past, at least until Josh showed up and Glen as usual basked in his presence. I hated a lot of things about my friend's brother, but the thing I hated most was the way Glen's face lit up when he walked into a room. He didn't deserve Glen's affection or respect, didn't deserve to live–

I was so engrossed by my thoughts that I didn't realize I wasn't alone in the cab of my truck. Movement in my peripheral vision caused me to jump, shouting.

Edward snickered. "Good morning. You're late for class."

"Jesus, man, what the... it's too early to be sneaked up on by vampires."

One corner of Edward's mouth lifted, and he slouched into the seat, fiddling with the radio.

My thoughts strayed briefly back to Phoenix and everything I missed about it, but I pushed those thoughts away. There was no sense lingering in the past.

But still, the past lingers on, I guess, and there's no sense ignoring it either.

"You realize–" I paused, unsure of how to continue. "I mean. You can't ignore... _me_... forever."

"Pardon? I'm not ignoring you at all."

"No, I know, I didn't mean it like that. I meant, you can't ignore the shit I've done. We haven't spoken at all and– I just." I sighed, frustrated already with the way the conversation was going. It seemed impossible to say what I wanted to without sounding whiny or petty.

Edward didn't pause to consider his answer the way I would have had to. "I haven't been ignoring anything. I didn't realize you wanted to talk about it. I meant what I said in the hospital, even if our conversation was brief. I forgive you the things you've done, and I wouldn't want to change the past– well, not much anyway."

"But that's no good, Edward. You can't just– I mean, you have to accept all of it, all of me, or else, we're just at a crossroads here."

"I didn't mean that I would change anything you've done." Edward's golden gaze was unnerving, as always reminding me of an animal's, reminding me that, in a way, he was one, much more than regular people was. For the long drawn out silence that followed, I stared into my lap. He finally went on in a whisper. "I meant for that, if I could, I would change the things that have been done to you."

There was no way I could disagree, or pretend that I didn't know what he was talking about.

"That's fair. I would change that, too."

"But I wouldn't, even if I could, want to change who you are. You aren't the most saintly person, but you're still the person I–" Edward stopped suddenly, his face going blank. I was surprised by the abrupt change of mood. He turned to look out the window, and muttered, "Became friends with."

"Uhm."

I paused, torn and unsure. The conversation had been much easier than I'd expected, but now I didn't know how to deal with his frosty demeanor.

"...Edward?"

He sighed, and before I could ask said, "Nothing is wrong. I'm fine." I couldn't think of anything to say, so I glared out the windshield. "Was there something else you wanted to talk about?"

"No, not really," I mumbled.

The silence felt awkward, but it didn't last long.

As I was parking the truck Edward said, "There is something we haven't discussed... Those people who were at the studio–"

"It doesn't matter," I said shortly before he could continue. "They– they were worthless anyway. I'm glad they're dead."

Edward didn't respond. Maybe he was surprised at my lack of regret– well, he'd said he could accept me. Better get used to it.

Should I have felt guilty about their deaths? I had led them into that studio, if not purposefully. I didn't know what the morally right choice was, but I did know that regardless of that I hoped he and his four cronies were rotting in hell, if it existed.

Without saying anything I opened the truck door and got out, glad when Edward fell into step beside me as I made my way across the empty parking lot. The rain fell around us, soaking into my jeans.

"All that matters is that he's dead," I whispered into the quiet air.

Edward finally spoke. "Yes, Emmett and Jasper took care of him," he said slowly. "He's gone for good, so we won't have to worry about him anymore."

I felt something inside me stir when Edward said that– we won't have to worry about him anymore. As if he haunted Edward as much as he haunted me.

I stopped and looked over into his face. His golden eyes didn't seem as unnerving suddenly, instead very warm and comforting to look into.

"We're quite late," Edward noted.

"That's alright, I don't really care."

Edward wiped the rain from his eyes, and his face was gentle, not animal-like or frightening at all as he watched me do the same.

"I don't care, either," he said. "But I'm getting soaked. Plus we're missing a show. Let's get the hell inside, Newton's about to set the chem lab on fire."


	30. Binge

For those of you who haven't noticed, Binge has been up for a while.


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